Tin in September

November 10, 2010
The forgotten road
I took back home
Now is covered with flowers

I'll never know why
No matter how much I cry
The reason for its enduring powers

It draws me in
To a shack made of tin
In my beautiful dreams

I'll always remember
The smell of September
Orange leaves fall to quiet streams

I still hear the sound
Of life newly found
By the sun in hidden woods

Oh, how fast I'd run back
To my old tin shack
In the woods if I could

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