You are a Metaphor
I never saw—
the crisp autumn wind
through the oak branches
the orange light
from the far west
the leaves most special
swirling in the breeze
the blinding dust
on the barren sidewalk
the sinking of the sun
below my horizon
—you
I never saw—
the crisp autumn wind
through the oak branches
the orange light
from the far west
the leaves most special
swirling in the breeze
the blinding dust
on the barren sidewalk
the sinking of the sun
below my horizon
—you
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