taking my leave
as many people as there are leaves
that fall to feed the trees
that fall to feed the forest
that takes its final breath
this side of winter
all this gold turning to mulch
the hypha highways of the moonlight
so long between their flowering
the spores of thought
hiding from the sunlight
rising
so many people
do they have thoughts like this
are they the tree’s leaves
or the fungi’s fingers
pursed lips
or thin smiles
sit down
this needs long thought
just here
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