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Autumn Memories

The joy of Autumn Colours

Cold and crisp, the air bites my face

And my breath leaves with elegant grace

I stand and see the waning sun's glare

I close my eyes and I stare


I take a step, over the peat

I feel the path beneath my feet

The crisp sound of leaves are heard

And the sound of intermittent birds


With open eyes, I see the trees of old

In glorious shades of orange, yellow and gold

Their colours dancing on their way to the floor

And with the breath of the wind, some soar


Falling ultimately, back to the ground

Some fall on earth and others are drowned

Their colours intensify as they pile up high

And gravity once again, just sighs


The trees are becoming bare and cold

As this season’s end takes its ultimate toll

Yet they yield their most beautiful show

In their throes of death, as they become old

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Copyright © Martin W. All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the writer.

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