Autumn
By colleen
They fall softly, graceful From up above With no purpose, No direction Eventually landing on the Earth, The dirt, That empty field once so full of life. Their many colors scaatter All over the Earth, Creating a unique piece of art With each one that falls from above, Leaving our overhanging shade; Protection on hot days, Barren and emptry, Like your soul when you've given all You had to give. Written October 23rd, 2001 © on Oct 22 2001 11:13 PM PST 0 • 10
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"They fall softly, graceful..."