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I Change with the Season
The death of Summer,
Of bright sun and sea days
Of warm nights and starry skys
Of freedom and time.
You once told me,
Red is the true color of Beginning.
Of fallen leaves and cool breeze
Of spices and warm drinks
Of candles and gourds.
Giving the life to Autumn.
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I just finished reading the Matched series by Ally Condie and there's a lot of peotry in them. One by Emily Dickinson, I did not Reach Thee, has been looping through my head. That poem and one line from the last book actually inspired this poem.