Changing Seasons

October 14, 2011
By Emily Boomer BRONZE, Lapeer, Michigan
Emily Boomer BRONZE, Lapeer, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

At the break of dawn,
As I lay under my huge oak tree,
The soft grass at my back,
Watching as night slowly fades,
And a new day begins.
I watch as the puffy white clouds slowly drift by,
As I lay not moving, not thinking,
I take in a deep breath of autumn air.
The aroma of winter is on it's way,
The tree above me, it's leaves are changing.
From as green as an apple to as orange as the sunset.
A suddon wind blows through the trees,
Like a wisper, it's so soft and quiet.
Then it stops... and it's quiet once more.
Leaning against the oak the bark is rough at my back.
I can alomost see it clearly now,
The ground layered with a huge white blanket.
The snow tasting as cold as ice.
Also seeing the kids catching the falling snowflakes.
The seasons are changing... And I'm here watching

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