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Autumn Calls (a merged mirror cinquain)
Gold leaves
swirl by in gusts.
A passing boy shuffles
through piles of fallen splendor now
brittle,
branches snap; from nearby burning
pile, a smoky finger
curls and to me
beckons.
The Snapshot
Beneath
a furrowed brow,
his rheumy eyes
reflect
his life—-- courage in a badge of
wrinkles.
Return to the front page of this issue:
Amaze Vol.
2, No. 2 Fall & Winter, 2003.
Go to the
Poets & Authors page for the poet's
biographical sketch and email link.
These poems are Copyright © 2003 by Cindy Sinsap.
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