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Autumn Elegy

– for James

It is fall now and
I feel your memory slip
across my neck into
a noose of nonsense.
The words you said,
make no sense
to anyone but us.

I feel your memory
slip across my
worried wrists.
Rings of autumn color
circle my fingers
now that your
young body has
grown under a
line of stones

Your words made
no sense to anyone
but us. There is a river
of autumn dreams, with
old names etched in stone
drawn down into the
deep ground.

The words you said,
turn into a sound that
has no sound.

©Susan M. Sanders
for James

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