Time’s Riddle
Sweat drips between my shoulders
as a blanket of wet heat
descends from a bright gray sky:
my mind's eye turns eagerly,
reluctantly to images of frost
crystallized on orange leaves
crackling on the hoary ground
underneath a cobalt sky.
Do I foresee the future?
Or do I just remember
autumns past? Perhaps the leaves
are falling even now.
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