The sound of autumn

Today was a day off from work, to honour the war dead.
Everywhere I rode, the city was solemnly quiet except
for the sound of lawn rakes scratching fallen leaves
together into piles for later disposal. I had never
before realized just how haunting that sound is. It's
the sound of meek but persistant human effort. Scratch,
scratch, scratch.

I tried to recall the words to "At the Time of the
Breaking of Nations", but I couldn't remember them all.

--
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