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By Serena Elsasser

Every Autumn needs its Winter

Something to follow after death

Lead me into a gentle night

When the water in the river

Stops moving

Lying me on grass green

And leave me there until it turns

Brown

Touch my hands with yours

Turn reds, oranges, and yellows

Into nothing

Kiss me

And blow arctic winds

Into my soul

Coddle, please coddle me

Promise me Winter will come

Let this not be only a season

But a lifetime of Autumn following Winter