orange flames leap and dance on soft pile
in the garden eating up twigs and dried
leaves and then subsiding and turning into
smoke which snakes up and into the grove
of trees the wind blowing it out into the
town creating that instant unmistakable
smell of burning leaves burning eyes and
nose I stir leaves to create more hesitant
flames pile reduces to a mound and then a
patch the air full of the microscopic bits
of leaf which transport into the atmosphere
and reach God
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