Friday, January 16, 2015

Autumn







Autumn's breath is the chill wind down the squirrel's back, a gentle warning of harder times and harsher weather. Her fingertips are sweeping brushes that paint instructions and cues in orange and yellow.She always attends the last concert of crickets and frogs, before tucking them away one by one.The mushrooms she leaves in her footsteps are arrows that guide the groundhogs home. She bids the birds farewell, and kisses the bears goodnight. Finally, once all the actors have left the theater, she plucks the last leaf from the last tree. Winter takes the stage.   

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