Weary Seasons (Double Etheree)

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I’ve heard your good-byes in a million ways

some through the breaths of autumn’s wind song

sweeping breezes with metaphors

and adjectives of ‘no hope

describing departure

by its fallen faith

a fatigued heart

bone-tired

of breaks

cracked.

Spent.

I hear

through your words

credence has died

no breathing, no pulse

no resuscitation

for the imaginary

brand of love that unwinds the air

and hushes the unrelenting churns;

I die, with each good-bye, at season’s end.

© 2013 Liza Morales

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