Balanced on a thin line
Between presence and erasure,
There’s a face you cannot turn away from,
Eyes that still embrace you.
When the raven tops the maple tree
Whose yellow leaves are raining,
All your memories of amber light
Are loosened from their casings.
And the voice that calls insistently
May speak of love or danger
As it draws you up and toward the things
You cannot look away from.
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