Aizu Autumn (pt. II)

A falling of grace drifts from sky to mountain
from pine to pine; evergreen to earth
The memories of years upon years finds its rest
caressing peaks of rock, juts millions of years old
And I witness a world 6,000 miles from birth
touched by myriad maligned angels
taking testimonials by gloved hand
Basking in the Fallen’s icy breath
the bitter; the chill of the outsider
staring into filthy panes
Staring at the peaks delighted in grace

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