Swoosh!
The winds of Autumn blow
crispy parchments,
delicate flakes of calico.
Costumed lamina dancers
adorned in dragon-fire gold
skipping, twirling, dancing
in the frosty morning cold;
singing whispered,
secret, seasoned songs
of arborescent memories -
a childlike rustling chorus
from the fruit of fruitless trees.
The drifting, giggling laughter
caught!
on a brisk New England breeze.

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