Last Autumn Day

The long many metal blades caress
the soggy brittle leaves that layeth
strewn about
that a
sudden October gust
of a now long past nordic wind rearranged;
in their grey and misty morrow litteredness
which greets mine eyes
they become entangled in their thin tin nails

It is still warm,
descended dew
covers the brown dotted yard

the fallen ones are gathered
all those damp leaves
in a sweeping motion

the fresh green grass
uncovers a field of joy
vibrant wet savannah for my receiving eyes

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