if
the snow would stop snowing
wind stop blowing
oak leaves turned brown
if
the sun did not set
in a crack of horizon
orange of another color
if the tips
of my fingers
weren't freezing
naked cold fingers clicking the camera
if the photos weren't blurry...
but how could they capture
that miraculous light
glowing then fading
winter comes early
oak leaves are stubborn
what's left of love
goes on stinging
deep into this cold night
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