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The Mornings of Autumn Eating Fire
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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