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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: April 10, 2017

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Submitted: April 10, 2017



See the leaves on the trees?
They are beautiful like the evening sunset
Crimson and gold, orange and royal purple
A painting unable to be equaled by human hands

Feel the wind in your hair?
Playful: like father's fingers tousling your locks
Gentle: like mother when she shows you her love
Harsh: like a thousand fans aimed at you

Hear the birds and crickets and frogs singing?
They sadly anticipate the death of the year
As she approaches the winter of life
But they celebrate the rest of the time with her

Smell the tart fragrance of apple cider?
Taste the fresh creaminess of pumpkin pie?
This is autumn, the middle-age of the year
When wisdom and time are the sharpest

© Copyright 2018 Lizzie Stephens. All rights reserved.

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