Reflecting as the trees let go,
leaves fluttering down..
showing us the way,
to say good bye with grace
to last years old junk.
Nostalgia; we reminisce, rummage, feel remorse,
repress,
bemoan, burrow, brood over
the beautiful past as it dies before our eyes...
while the trees bare themselves gently, letting go as the color fades, and then sleep until they start to create new life.
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