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Autumn
We do not mourn summer’s death as it is buried beneath a season of new beginnings.
Instead, our gaze is fixated on the way trees gently bow their heads to welcome the fall.
We are surrounded by nature’s sweet adornments.
We cannot help but wonder how something beautiful could only last three ethereal months.
And soon, like the summer, our crisp, captivating autumn hues will be buried beneath layers of snow.
But let us breathe in the brisk breeze that smells of bonfires and warm apple cider ;
let us be entranced by those ruby reds and rich goldens and the crackling of leaves as we canter across the sidewalk pavement;
let us watch the sun illuminate the endless blue sky;
let us rejoice in the beauty of this autumn.
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I wrote this poem last autumn. While writing it, I chose words that sounded beautiful to me, perhaps as beautiful as autumn itself.