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The Mornings of Autumn Eating Fire

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Sitting watching the winds dance through bare boned trees, their branches swaying methodically

The leaves twirling in graceful loops down through the stubborn branches getting caught on the jutting appendages

Lands with a soft pat on the dried grass below, flicking into a comfortable position, nestling into the leaves

A mourning dove cooing in soft burbles of sounds intermingling with the cry of calling crows

A woodpeckers tap-tap-tapping up the trees and flitting through the browned leaves their strangled songs ringing

The hawk circling lazily above the treetops with wings outstretched in a long line, undisturbed and smooth

A squirrel scuttles through the leaf litter and digs a home for the nut it holds in its quivering mouth, front paws scurrying

The family of turkeys cluck a quiet conversation to and fro with feathers ruffled from the chill wind

That wind carries the promise of winter in its icy clutches with the scent of polar clear in its currents

My reddened cheeks tingling from the sun warming them out of their frozen stupor, egging them from the shock

The sunlight dimples across the perfectly fitted leaves littering the forest floor below me, dappled from the shadows

Fuzzy grey outlines pattern the weeds lining the bases of trees, the stick thin traces of branches divide and crack

The air is coloured with a warmth undescribed, brown and red and orange licking the edges of everything like flame

You can almost taste the seasoning of fall mixed with the oxygen, spiced like pumpkin and cinnamon sticks

Rough bark crackles beneath my curious fingers, tips brushing flaking tree, the very skin that holds in the feelings (sap)

Blue sky peeks between fluffed clouds fresh from the dryer with the sheets still mixed with them

Pink veins behind closed eyelids faced towards the orb of light in the sky that heats the ozone around the earth

Autumn eating fire surrounds the people too oblivious to notice this indescribable beauty.




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