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Autumn Leaves

Chapter 65: YESTERDAYS.
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About This Book

A compact poetry collection gathers short lyrical and didactic pieces that reflect on mortality, memory, love, duty, and spiritual consolation, often using nature and seasonal imagery to frame moral and emotional insights. Many poems shift between wistful reverie and exhortation, imagining dreamlike flights, harvest metaphors about deeds and consequences, prayers, meditations on motherhood and friendship, and speculative lines about reincarnation and the afterlife. The work mixes tender sentiment, moral counsel, and pastoral description across brief, accessible poems that alternate consolation with sober reminders of life's hardships.

YESTERDAYS.

For all the buried yesterdays
I have not one regret;
I love them not, I mourn them not,
I would them all forget.

Of all the dead, dead yesterdays
Which were so dearly bought,
I care not to remember one,
They were with misery fraught,
They held no joy, they held no peace,
Each day had some deep pain;
So I would never call them back;
Each day seemed lived in vain.

Today I live, today I love,
The yesterdays are dead.
I wot not of the passing days
Though by them I am led.
Today is mine with all it holds,
I’ll do the best I know.
The future is a closed up book,
And may be filled with woe.