We Stand and Dance




out my window
i become red orange
fire. inside apples
Uncle Tom’s Macs are red
waiting to become pie
i cannot read the chill
or the yellow leaves
but the reds become my
tongue there is
a wizard here showing me
something i cannot yet put down as a
scribe but only take into my belly like a warm
apple crisp oozing bliss into my being
ice cream topped warmth whispering
loud thoughts of autumn how
her many beauties have become me

i read today that this crimson comes only
here in this land native to my anscestors where trees have developed
fire red for protection and joy how i adore
maples and oaks and burning bushes their dance so
rooted their gifts of breath with startling beauty
unbelievable and unheralded we stand and dance

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