The crisp air with a slight chill,
Ushers in the season of Fall
The time before the approaching Winter
Harvesting Nature's rustic bounty.
The fading green, turning crimson red Sun-kissed leaves form a soft bed
Treading along the strewn path,
Dotted with bare trees on either side.
The babbling brook gurgles on,
Churning the leaves of the past.
An end to a year of blooming beauty,
Until that time the sun stays long.
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