i wrote a poem i somehow lost
when the last leaf of autumn fell
as i braced so fast and stood my ground
against the wind and gusts of rain
i searched for words among the trees
but the swirling leaves just swallowed me,
i could not hear the words i spoke,
i could not find the thoughts i wrote
the rustling leaves all swished around
and broke the silence where i stood,
the tallest trees stared and watched,
ignored the sadness i tracked
then the wind spoke again,
in soft murmurs of its breeze,
it told me why i could not find
the gentle verse i wrote awhile
now i am lost on the forest floor
where trees are silent and leaves lie still,
at last i know where my words remain,
i wrote my poem upon your skin
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