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30th November 2020

Late November

3pm in the whole of the

half grey half dark

I have sat here all season long

Not seeing the sun dissolve into fog

Staring long into short evenings

When it gets too dark too soon

Marvelling at the change

Thinking my heart would break

At the beauty of it

 

It was cute at first

When the leaves started falling

One magnificent stem at a time

Breaking loose, blazing a trail

For the thousands of others

Still tied down

 

Then it started to rain

And the notes from above

Began a cascade

Litter started building up, the floor thick

With orange and brown

Turning to mulch on the ground

 

Out of the corner of my eye I sense

A fluttering

Motion cloud of possibilities

Leaves bustling in the breeze

Where will they land?

The majestic journey of

A thousand wayward pieces

Destined for the dirt

© Huntress Thompson

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