A Winter of Democracy

Fall rolls in like a train, dragging in a
chilled caboose.  The cold air seems to wrap
its serpentine body around each
Eden-born leaf, hissing of minutes missed
in the waning summer.  Sparks fly from
brittle feelings fallen to the ground
as vengeance washes the blue cloth of sky
with misguided thoughts; a storm breaks

like the waves of American soldiers
on Iraqi soil.  Bullets rain on branches
of Humanity plagued by a fungus
of hate.  War-driven winds pluck screaming leaves,
soldier, father, mother, child�left to decay
beneath the flaming ice of democracy.
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