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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Environment >> ID #1205911 |
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Fall
As the cold wind clamors we button our sweaters Bidding the summer adieu We take our walk as we always do Against the sky the trees appear obsolete Their colorful leaves underneath our feet I brush away the hairs displaced By the breezes upon my face The crisp air stings my nose As it becomes almost froze As the colors of the leaves transform Our hearts, even in the cold, grow warm Sitting in front of the fire, I gaze into the eyes that I admire (not done yet)
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