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Walking
on autumn street
I round a corner
and there it was.

Swirling
shifting
reds
golds
browns
autumn leaves
swirling
in a miniature cyclone
wind poetry.

Raw
natural
beauty
in simplicity
spiralling
then shifting
zigzagging the road
a whirlpool
of leaves
in wind.

Crackling
swooshing
leaves clapping
then slithering
a symphony
of autumn sounds.

I couldn’t understand
what it whispered to me
but I stopped
and listened
to the song the wind crooned
because it was beautiful.

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