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Poetry

09/28/2016

Photo by Paul Paproski, OSB

 

Autumn Leaves

There are no ships from Tarshish
in the distance.
Silver and gold
are now only in the trees
as their leaves chime in
the autumn breeze.

Wait, now.
Listen, now.

Here it is complete
and all that has been given
comes to this crescendo,
a thousand notes
singing day and night.

This hymn,
this draw,
pulls me out of my stone
and I feel again
the kiss of love.

By Michael Dallaire