A Quiet Time


If I place the chair just so,

the auburn sunlight plays a kaleidoscope,

upon my face.


Through fading leaves,

amber gold of harvests yield,

gifts received in arms of grace.


Fallen apples all around,

autumn breeze, cool autumn breeze,

afternoon in falls embrace.


As a child I ran,

through natures orchards,

dappled sun enveloped this space.


Now as a grown man,

tainted eyes I see,

the boy in me upward turns his face.



(I am Stoic)







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