As the tree tops tinged yellow, so did their constenances

Until not just the season, but their entire categories

Became rounded and unclear

And they had to accept that inbetween, no-man’s-land

That is being more than one and one at the same time

 Fall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem by the lovely and wise beyond her years, Mary Centrella.

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