page banner of a large orange plastic snail in the woods during autumn

autumn mournings

   i can tell when it’s
getting colder out,
because my knees 
stiffen, as if bracing 
for nature to start
dying off into its 
oranges and browns.
i think of Demeter 
crying and hugging 
Persephone, who
begins her trip back
to the Underworld, 
and wonder if my
mother misses me
when she eats
pomegranates.

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