Autumn Dreams

Between gaps of rain, music drifts in pockets of sunlight. Soft piano and voices, softer still. The fall of leaves marks the impending arrival of autumn, which floats on the winds of late August. I await you, autumn; though the deep green of summer still holds onto my heart, my dreams are filled with red and gold. The fragrance of firewood and yarn sweaters touches upon my consciousness; “wait for me,” it says.

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