It is as loud on the last day as
it is at the latest, the city tree
clinging to greens and reds
that might be imaginary,
limbs dozing and dreaming out
old seasons. Bright and
haggard as it holds
high the sky, so far as it knows,
telling a story that is over.
All these letters shed over
the heart’s many seasons,
love and salt and the radiant
half-life of madness
blazing down the page,
wants and wishes and the romance
that just needs somewhere to go,
these ashes returned to affections,
the earth forever in love.
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