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Syndic Literary Journal

New York – Albany

Narrated by Francis Poole




God i had forgotten how

the Hudson burns 

in indian autumn 



fall away through 

all those trees 

The leaves die turning 

falling fallen 

falling into loam of dark 

yellow into death 


falling fallen falling 

those “pestilence-stricken multitudes” 

blown all blasted 

They are hurting them 

with wood rakes 

They are raking them 

in great hills 

They are burning them 

the leaves curl burning 

the curled smoke gives up 

to eternity 


never the same leaf turn again 

the same leaves burn 

In a red field 

A white stallion stands 

and pees his oblivion 

upon those leaves 

washing my bus window 

only now blacked out 

by a covered bridge 

we flash through 

only once 

No roundtrip ticket 

never returning 

the youth years fallen 

away back then 

Under the Linden Trees in Boston Common 

Trees think 

through these woods of years 

They flame forever 

with those thoughts 

I did not see eternity 

the other night 

but now in burning 

turning day 

Every bush burns 

Love licks 

all down 

All gone 

in the red end 

Small nuts fall 

Mine too 




Compiled/Published by LeRoy Chatfield
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