This morning I shook the green leaves down For I’d nothing to do. Do you see?

September already, rain in a tin dish,

Little mercies in my unsung song

And swaying under apple trees

So early it was—I could’ve shown you

The way home…

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

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