When the weather finally turns cooler—which seems to take forever here in Arkansas—I feel lighter and freer like the bare trees. What relief winter must be for the trees that had to carry the weight of shading everything with their heavy green canopies As I settled down for my evening tea and reading the other night, I came across this poem by Bruce Weigl. I studied creative writing with him when I was an undergrad, years before he wrote this poem. It touched me, especially the line, “They know the boy who lives inside me still won’t go away.” So I give that poem to you today, my friends in the thick of fall.
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