When she seemed old

I like the foliage when
It’s just past its peak
When the leaves are more
Yellow than crimson
When they are a little dry
Just on this side of brittle

Most of them still hang on strongly
To the branches of their mother tree
And the carpet they form on the ground
Is soft not yet crisp and crumbling
Like my skin now that I am
About to be the same age as
My mother was when she seemed
So old

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