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The Burning Of The Leaves

I
Now is the time for the burning of the leaves.
They go to the fire; the nostril pricks with smoke
Wandering slowly into a weeping mist.
Brittle and blotched, ragged and rotten sheaves!
A flame seizes the smouldering ruin and bites
On stubborn stalks that crackle as they resist.

The last hollyhock's fallen tower is dust;
All the spices of June are a bitter reek,
All the extravagant riches spent and mean.
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COMMENTS
charles 24 October 2018
it reminds me of mcdonalds chicken nuggets with hot mustard......wonderfull
1 0 Reply
Brian Jani 13 July 2014
brilliant piece of penwork here Mr Binyon, it carries a message which reflects on life.
0 0 Reply
* Sunprincess * 31 May 2014
............very nice.....and so is the continuous cycle of life.....enjoyed..
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