Come
a time to autumn our lives
we
can see the path our leaves will line.
It
winds through our past and we can see so far,
and
we watch as remembering,
a
small child of great energy and laughter
bounces
and plays along the path,
stopping
from time to time
to
rustle the leaves and gaze at her reflection
in
some puddle or in the eyes of a friend.
The
sunlight prances through the golden trees
and
washes her hair with joy and love,
lighting
softly the late afternoon in these woods.
I
can watch you here, from my wooden porch,
leaning
against the rail of my boundaries,
as
you dance unfettered.
You
are beautiful to behold on my path.
You
have danced and graced the paths
of
all who share you,
and
the love that tags along beside you.
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