3rd Aizu Autumn

Empty cans of kerosene dream
More for a month or two
While leaves bleed their chlorophyll
And frost consumes dew
The rice fields drain to fields of grain
Their empty stalks soon burn
And summer rains flood tannin’d brains
Their empty stalks soon burn

The rains of June were but a ruse
It’s autumn’s tears that fill
The winter pangs that summer feigns soothe
Her empty harvest kills
And all the white that’s soon to blight
The burning, waving fields
I ingest with burdened breast
Too soon; winter builds

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