There is a wreath on my wall, colors of fall
Brown and yellow turning…

There is a time when I,
not knowing,
passed my love by
and left him in the seasons passing

past the harvest moon
the stars remind me of what could have
and what will be

and what has to go

There is an autumnal rush of feeling
of change
and of loss overcoming
when that last leaf falls
and my wreath is shrouded in white

For knowing I’ve paid a price
and the wisdom of brown
is rough
but lasting
for if the white again turns to green

There is a chance



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