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Winning Poems: The Moods of Summer

I playing and watching was like scattered leaves.

Second Prize Kay C. Willke

Autumn

To halt the maple in her red moment,

The dried leaves at my feet still curled like pods,

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To stay the curve of sparrows leaning south

And hold the image far behind my eyes

Is all of autumn's transient desire.

I hold a leaf like water paints run wild--

Vein to vein changing, running into gold,

The edge turned up to keep the color in.

The frost wind turns it brittle on my palm.

Never the same, my love, the running vein,

Never identical the leaf or yet the fall,

Never the moment realized as full

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