Ancestors · Scripts

Aging

As I dangle in my tree,a few leaves fall ahead of me

A crisp fall day, finds me slower to catch a ray

When I  drop, I hope you stop,pick me up

I see you round the bend, and this prayer to you, I extend

Take me on your trail that I can’t see

Even when the breeze would let me sail as high as I pleased

 

 

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