The wind came yesterday, invited
by a foolish sun and dark blue sky
days. Tides of puffed up clouds drifted
through, beckoning.
The work took one day. Stripping
reluctant leaves from bent saplings
and tearing away old Maples' loose
overcoat. Free red leaves make
diamond patterns on winds' traveling
body of air.
Wind is change as a visible force.
The cold turning of satisfied pride
into another round of new
nakedness. Time to begin again,
with white.
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