A Renewal
Having used every subterfuge
To shake you, lies, fatigue, or even that of passion,
Now I see no way but a clean break.
I add that I am willing to bear the guilt.
You nod assent. Autumn turns windy, huge,
A clear vase of dry leaves vibrating on and on.
We sit, watching. When I next speak
Love buries itself in me, up to the hilt.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC8lEFP-yeTW7i2JaTe-zves1XikD-l2nGd94Beig3UvbNNqqAH6ZuYuUN3qQCLrTJybIg7ffQRJRAkveN-jtoC7gz-6gMHfzbawRpJ-eNOtGP4ulj4D4ZDnrNAfyUw2L9dHs-QlpMSSg/s320/mendelson_1-122216.jpg)
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