the night before i died

before I left work
the temperature dropped
a good twenty degrees
in a fit and frenzy of a storm.

one hand smiled content in
a pocket while
the other called “home”
on speed dial.

walking, kicking leaves
blown down nonchalant
restless corners
yellow brown and dying

my mom talked about Christmas
and I talked about my cat
and with a “say hi to dad”
I hung up.

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