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Autumn

Streaks of horizontal light
Dance an intricate ballet upon the lane
Deciduous walls of orange, yellow, and red
The echoes of a woodpecker, knocking wildly 
The sharp wind cuts through me like a dagger
October is here
Sweater weather
Hot cider and rum
I am in my autumn years
However, I cling to the branches
Is it the fear of winter that makes my grip so powerful?
Then call the season autumn and not fall

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