Falling Leaves

I feel that we have entered the autumn of our years.  The lines on the faces of the people have become that much deeper, that bit more entrenched.  The smile that was once gaily upturned now twists downward into a sneer, a hint of malice behind the mask that has slipped, bit by bit, over the years.

No longer do we embrace by the waters in the park, but we huddle in small groups by the gravestones of the dead.  Memories that are only temporarily locked in stone and will eventually be dispersed by the soil.

What once passed for love now passes for fear.

What have we become?  What have we denied?

The commonality of life, shared by all that breathe, live and love, is slowly being replaced.  There are dark patches on the map of this world.  Let us not now welcome them into the light of day.  Keep them on the periphery, where they belong, where we need to keep them.

Autumn, as cold as that bitter season can be, can also be beautiful.

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