Autumn
The leaves drift down in gold and brown,
The soft wind whispers through the town.
The sun shines low with gentle glow,
Where quiet autumn joys may grow.
Birds take their flight to far‑off shore,
Cool nights come knocking at the door.
The world slows down, calm and still,
As autumn paints each quiet hill.
2026-10-31 04:40:35
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