Autumn Wind

The wind had picked up;

I fold my arms under my flannel sleeves

and lean against a might tree now shed of it’s glory–

It’s leaves now flown and gone.

They lay in tumbled piles of golden, amber, treasure;

across the fields and furrows

that draw my soul again to the memories

of a childhood now also flown and gone;

and of the smell of sweet pumpkin in the air.

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