Lifting winds cut through the trees
Scouring all of coppered leaves,
Now swirling in the autumn sky,
To flutter down, like butterflies.
Winter now, she bides her time
For soon enough her clock will chime.
She'll open wide her icy hand,
And cast her spell across the land.
In the trees, will squirrels doze.
While creatures snuggle beneath hedgerows,
To quietly wait out winters hold,
In dreys...
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