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Poetry

Autumnal Blues

There is a chill at night as summer fades into fall.

A sadness as schools start and the days shorten,

as baseball hopes fade and leaves change hues.

The brilliance of the sun is no longer blistering,

the nights no longer hot and moist and requiring

only sheets and no other bed clothes.

Even your messages are shorter,

crisper in tone like the winds

that rustle the dying

plants with

memories.

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