
(Photo by Jacqueline Casey)
“For Johnny” When silver leaves sigh, trembling to the ground When scarlet leaves dance, hesitant to part lay deep in dusty shadows, they intone and whisper “I have been here where my heart When days grow short with bitterness of soul, among the frost and starry branches bare, remember warm your humor I still hold before the light grows dull to dark despair. Once more I sense your autumn presence where, . . |
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