Autumn colors... Deepening before they fall Yellow, brown, crimson, red Descending one, descending all, Torn from life, now left as dead And disconnected from the Vine, Parted from the blood, the Life, Without the Spirit's sap divine, They wither, as if cut by knife. No two-edged Sword has cut them down. The Tree did not push them away. But with no desire for the crown They have abscised, not to stay.
Erik Mundall December 13, 1995
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