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Softly,
as the sun's light
tilts low on
the horizon,
I hear
my heart speaking...

...a golden curtain
falls across the
faces of the trees
and I think,
what rare glory
an autumn sunset!

So,
whispering on
the wind
the crickets
usher in the night
on purple shadows...

...in peaceful joy
I lift up
thanksgiving
to my God above
and praise
His artistic hands.


K.Tate Jacoby
copyright 10/9/95







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