Autumn

Are you still dead if you see the leaves
if you notice the sea at the end of your street
with every orange leaf I do die – with crisp
autumn death I fall down

When winter rolls in I will be bedbound
a face full of tears and a list of not-dones
and yet I laugh at the kitchen table
with friends, I long for the sunset

so there is every chance – I am not dead
yet

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