October

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Moon with smallest mote of dust,
along a footpath of the stare-through.
Went silent daybreak; divinity of sun.

Look at the moment dwindling unto soft morning,
disappearing.
Caught hold the breath, feel crash fading timber of new

Within the forest entered a mounting stare
sun is silent there and you stare at the gradual fall
until you remain still.
Sweet allure sky, last breath of white clouds
blast of wind.
Beneath the midnight void splendor morning light.
Leaf unfolds and the sun stops, reemerging mote of dust.

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