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Steven Aliano
Picture Frame
You cannot
be in the mirror
and say that you are here.
Dead air will be dead air,
no matter how badly
you hope it’s full.
I wait on drifts of a breeze.
Seasons change, rain showers—
hail turns to snow.
An orange leaf falls
on my window,
blowing off and gone.
The only sign that
Fall is still here
and won’t be, soon.
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