A scarlet leaf hangs, trembles, and drops from the highest branch twirling to the gray sidewalk, a ruby falling from the sky. A golden leaf plummets in the sharp wind, descends, and gracefully comes to rest on the dry, withering grass, a topaz gift from the oak. Copper beechnut leaves blow across hard pavement in a rust hued choreography of leaping flames, fire opals scattering in the streets. You hover, fragile, eyes closed, suspended between breath and dust, a gem refracting rays, reflecting the mystery in the shift of seasons. I know that soon you will be gone, for the silver frost of winter lurks like a thief in the night, waiting to steal you away. I walk briskly on the gravel path, shivering in the sudden chill of dusk. Translucent tears fall slowly down my cheek, crystals catching fragments of evening light, like leaves drenched in dew, drifting in the autumn air.
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How perfect..as I'm witnessing a stunning autumn in New England this week. It won't be here long. Winter is starting to tease.