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Autumn Chores: A Legacy

sanchopanzalit

Sandy Carlson


Childhood chores required me to go outdoors

And wonder about tree universes:

The music of leaves in life, dying, death.

The canopy that drank up summer sun

Made music with the drying movement of air–

Made music under the slightest footfall,

Giving even me a place in the score

Of time swirling and turning through seasons.

I would kneel to pull leaves from around stones,

Discovering soft moss and soil’s rich scents,

A soft world of quiet beneath the trees–

Evergreens, secret and sure beside oaks.

Then, I had a place in the movement of things,

A child’s reverence for the love our Earth sings.

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