If one could bridge the distance with a word,
A journey would become a pilgrimage.
Elegant letters slant across the page.
My leaf has found a home upon your coat.
My kind critic, I think it is our fate
To meet in stanzas of my poetry.
Simile and metaphor must be our bond
Until autumn blows one of us away.
Our rare rapport is irreplacable.
Old moods glimmer on sills like fallen stars.
My little leaf says thank you every day.
It comforts me to know it traveled safe.
'With my compliments to Mukund Dave for
all his eloquent reviews'
Sandra Fowler's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Autumn Friends by Sandra Fowler )
(13-7-31 (see reverse))
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(30 July 1818 – 19 December 1848)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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