An old yellow truck,
and a young heart.
Today the leaves are changing,
as they fall into the bed.
The boys next door,
trying to catch them before they do.
The grass is dying but cut to an edge.
Distantly, I can see the start of the path,
that brought this heart here,
along with the owner of the truck,
the same.
I love the line "a young heart" and the image of dying grass "cut to an edge" and what that might imply about a relationship or something else that isn't what it once was but is still being worked.
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