A Nebraska Autumn
By pen inhand
Pin pricks of sunrise Dance upon the Morning mist. Igniting the trees Into the fiery Hues of fall. Acres of farmland Long sense harvested. Barren in their Seasonal slumber. In the distance the Geese cry their Farewell song as Their migration Leads them south. My sleeping senses awakened oh so Gloriously to the Sights, the sounds, The smells of a Nebraska Autumn.Written October 30th, 2000 © on Nov 17 2001 01:52 PM PST, Kelly Brega other
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"Pin pricks of sunrise..."