Judy McNuttJudy McNutt
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Sacred trails
Lead down into the canyon
Beneath a canopy of eucalyptus trees
Birds sing and fly
White butterflies
Tend to fall flowers
and consider where to lay their eggs
The sun makes a good show of
Final autumn days
My sunburned face
Betrays the length of my stay
And my engagement in this book
Soon the rains will wash away
Every trace of summer dust
and treasures cast aside will begin to rust
There ARE seasons in Southern California
You just have to know where to look


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