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Within A Poet's Heart (from A Widow's Wreath)
In this quaint mountain village
reds and yellows peek through rows of pines
I watch as autumn creeps slowly, carefully
like a snowshoe rabbit across fields of flowers
the poppies nod their heads in colorful approval
delphiniums answering in shades of softer blue
I add their songs to mine
It would be easy to wrap myself inside the stillness,
hiding elk-deep within corners of these hills
but you are here.
In the swiftly gentle movement of the river
I feel your touch, hear your voice
as a sigh against the silence of the sky
Sunlight flickers across rocks within the river
forming a beacon towards days long left behind
memories of a love that dearly, deeply mattered
fragments of hope once planted
within a poet's heart.
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