Hallowed
by Vivian Wagner 

The veil’s thin between

then and now,

there and here.

The cooling mornings

speak of coming winter,

even as we still remember

a summer just past.

Leaves color but

don’t yet fall.

Walnuts ripen but

don’t yet rot.

We’re on the

edge, as we

always were,

but now, finally,

we see it.

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