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I took the path behind the school

to save a minute on the walk.

The air was turning sharp and cool,

too quiet for a place of talk.

The swing set stood in flakes of red,

a skeleton against the sky.

I felt the spike of ancient dread

and didn't really know just why.

Until my knees began to burn

with a sting from twenty years ago.

The body waits for its own turn

to tell the things the brain won't know.