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Years of Silence
Don Hynes
Nov. l8, 2013
We get used to winter’s gray lid
when sunlight becomes a memory,
color fading into a mash of leaves
on wet streets and sidewalks,
the ceiling of our expectations
coming down like autumn rain;
standing still we’re like old growth trees,
catching mist in our moss covered branches,
roots shot through with years of silence,
falling into winter’s sleep
to grow the many songs of spring.
http://donhynes.com/blog/?p=1414