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An Autumn Rising

There are no daffodils to sing for

Like the poet did once

The rustic trees stand there

Barely any leaves to pluck from the sky

Just weeds and the frost

To kill mosquitoes and hiberbate the bees

While the birds fly to the south

The squirrels do their hunting waltz

It’s the end of summer

And the cozy nights are here to cherish

As I am alone writing

Another sonnet about autumn

Published inNature

One Comment

  1. Daffodils remind me of nights I now long for. My situation perfect, my mental on the wrong floor. Thanks for the inspiration friend.

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