Wake of December

I raked all of the leaves in the front yard today
and left body bags filled with Autumn
at the edge of the driveway.
When I came inside with heavy arms and frozen tears,
you were still gone.
And so I called you, after I pulled the thorns
from the backs of my thighs to tell you
I am sorry for the way the seasons
have changed things,
for the things we threw away
with only the bare winter ground
to show for it.

Riley Fields is a twenty something living on Long Island in New York. She writes free verse poetry and prose, and believes that healing is an art that deserves to be shared.

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