Nature’s rust
As the world turns dead. Yet not.
Burnt orange, deep red, vibrant yellow
A fire whips through
In preparation for a new beginning
Leaves bigger than your head
Smother windshields in Nile Street
A new filter on afternoon light
Sends people scurrying
Cheeky fantails not at all perturbed
As animals grow woolly coats
And warm socks
Has anyone stopped to admire autumn?
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