thanksgiving

Wind,

Our rooms

Letting in the bending

And leaning trees,

Leaves,

And

All

Fall.

When

Through all

Our arms your pillowed

Self moves and soft

Self rooms,

Our

Warming

Thoughts

Pause.

Then

Needing and

Heavy hearts thaw

Our sudden

And

Gathered

Hall.

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    • Bryan Borland
    • March 4th, 2010

    I really like “Self rooms” – something really cool to that.

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