Autumn
comes with the chilled air.
Night
follows the rising moon.
Forests
of oak and birch are nearly bare.
A
far off call of lonely loon.
Night
follows the rising moon.
Miles
from the city or cars.
A
far off call of lonely loon.
Fireflies
hide among the stars.
Miles
from the city or cars.
The
rush of movement, never still.
Fireflies
hid among the stars.
I
gaze out from above my windowsill.
The
rush of movement, never still.
Forests
of oak and birch are nearly bare.
I
gaze out from above my windowsill.
Autumn
comes with the chilled air.
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