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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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