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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Pamelyn Casto


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That Cold Autumn Morning

(after Murakami Kijō)

I felt the trembling unease for the first
time one morning in cold autumn
when waking up didn't behave—as morning
took on a greyness, a stiffness in the
new day that dawned and my old mirror
dimmed and clouded over to hide the I
who was here yesterday, and I stare
at the new wrinkles that turn into
painful realizations, into side-shows
which reveal the wave of the coming of my
shorter future, of my dotage— my father's
gift he didn't intend to bestow to my face.