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In the Fall

In the Fall a tree looses its leaves, as we do with friends.
But it is we that are blown in the wind.

The coming breeze of winter dawn cools the dry land.
Sunny days begin to flutter as the dark night wins the long fight.
As what was once green becomes barren, for life has gone to sleep for another day.

no  crickets chirp nor do morning birds sing as the ripples in the water become thick and frozen in time.
For what we saw and breathed yesterday is gone.
 And we dream that the rivers will flow again, the birds will return with song, and that tree will grow leaves anew. 
Brady Smith