Wind, trees and leaves
Wind blows through the trees of my life
picking up the leaves of old memories
some I am pleased to see tumble away
but others I want to hold and make green again
Branches thrash in protest as the wind takes its due
the trunk groans amusement at the frivolous action
a zephyr brings a familiar fragrance from the littered floor
and standing holding my leaves
I wondered if it was my life
Anthracite 
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