leaves on bushes and trees
glint their startling green into the sunlight.
as i walk, my shoes
crunch the dead and dying leaves
blown down by the winds.
it is an early illusion of fall.
if i close my eyes and
forget the heat of a southern september,
the sounds my feet make
bring me home
to a place where, in fall,
foliage turns bright autumn colors
and you can find leaf piles
under trees
the sounds small children make
running to jump into a pile
of the beautiful fiery colors
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