Best Crispness Poems

Rough footsteps sifting through the crisp, torte leave's,
a grey matter of cloud's over head,
the crisp, crunch of the fresh fallen leave's,
it stills my beating heart,
that noise, 
that simple sound,
I aghast.

The array of colors,
falling at their masses,
I want to skip, to run,
and hear the vital sounds...

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