where does your story begin, does it matter
how many turns, ‘tis the season
here to there, there to a new here, by roads less
or more like paths, ‘tis the season
in heart land, hearts will land, or compass spinning
veer off the course, ‘tis the season
the bright autumn leaves now coated wet, white, cold
in New England, ‘tis the season
nightmare or dream, keep breathing beneath, or through
the mask you wear, ‘tis the season
when you see horizontal snow shifting to
gentle falling, ‘tis the season
‘twas or ‘tis, a matter of tense, and with tensions tight
Steve'll choose ‘tis the season
one of two responses to the challenge for the Franklin Senior Center's writers group.
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