Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Maine

The colors had not changed in earnest,
But the last day, we rounded a corner
And came across the vista of a lake,
One I had seen before, only a few days prior.

But now the swath of scarlet,
Reflected on placid water of the beaver pond,
Was so striking,
My heart ached with its beauty
And tears rose,
Unbidden.

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