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Yellow Leaves Thinking of my life, so far: Leaves sodden, spent, sent To swathe the trodden way. Yellow they are, like certain apples, Perhaps gold, or a wheel grinder’s glints; Hinting through deeds done, That this is the day… Who is coming? Finds my leaves, sees how they mark the spot, Soften the steps,  And hasten the journey’s end… Just as the shout, tinge, word, whisper; Grin, scowl, blaze, glimmer; Of an empty man, Quickens all our hearts, and, it is hoped, Allays all our pain… ­David Young

Yellow Leaves  

Yellow they are, like certain apples, Perhaps gold, or a wheel grinder’s glints; Hinting through deeds done, That this is the day… Yellow Le...

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