This Season

November 14, 2008
The breeze shoots past my face.
A leave glides to the ground.
The cold air is coming round.
The last leaves are in place.
A seasonal change is embraced.

The year almost ended.
Time falls forward.
Shopping becomes standard.
A time that is splendid.

This season.
Will soon be finished.
And as it becomes diminished.
A new one will start without reason.

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