Your story breathes again,
In the whispered exhale of falling leaves,
Orange, red, and brown leaves,
Their silent goodbye,
Drifting to the ground,
In a ballet of descent,
And slow dancing,
With a gentle, amiable wind.
Each leaf a page turned,
In the book of seasons,
A chapter ending, another beginning,
In the grand narrative of nature,
Fall's manuscript, inked in hues,
Of amber, ruby, and earthy tones.
The...
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