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Autumn Leaves

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My father, a Tom Sawyer of his day,
Made raking leaves a game to play.
The green leaves turned orange, auburn, even gold.
I excited about my toy to hold.
Brown tree trunks waved their naked arms
As they prepared for winter's frosty harm.
Piles and piles cover out land
As labor keeps on coming from my hands.
Alas, my father says, I'm done.
He asks if I am ready to have some fun.
I gaze upon the work I have done so far.
My eyes twinkle like a new formed star.
Such a sweet reward, I move towards the leaves in a flash.
I jump into the collage of colors and make a splash.





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