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Shadows in the Wind

The crispness in each breath
announces the time of year.
I exhale, and it seems that the leaves turn.

All of the possibilities of spring
pull the leaves down to the ground,
and chance comes into play where each will land.

In the end, the earth is nourished,
time has continued on,
and we are blessed, with the yield of the harvest for that year.

While surrounded by our pleasures,
we find ourselves hovering nearer the hearth,
and bundling-up to erase the solstice chill;

and through the warmth, and light of our existence
our hearts are reminded to continue dreaming,
and to not waste energy trying to keep regrets alive.

For those sorrows are turning as did the leaves,
and soon will be as mulch beneath our feet.
Reducing them until they are but shadows in the wind.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Last few words: 
Another attempt @ a free verse poem; what say you? doc.
Editing stage: 

Comments

and through the warmth, and light of our existence
our hearts are reminded to continue dreaming,
lovely lines

the last 2 lines are a bit thingy, might be better as metaphors
and soon will be like mulch beneath our feet. [remove like]
Reducing them until they are like shadows in the wind.
[Reducing them to shadows in the wind.]

Just a suggestion.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

...I wondered about taking the "like" out of those two lines. Oh, and I love your Betty White quote!
doc.

Neopoet is "newtriffic" !
...from the heart, or a reasonable faxcimile;
david a. goodwin #{:>{)} @==

author comment

Gorgeous. One of your best. I have nothing else to say except it's hard to keep up with you, you prolific little rabbit.
wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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...you may have noticed this was another attempt @ a free verse poem. In this one, I think I did better.
Thanx again,
sincerely,
doc.

Neopoet is "newtriffic" !
...from the heart, or a reasonable faxcimile;
david a. goodwin #{:>{)} @==

author comment
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