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Writer's pictureHannah Telluselle

A fall poem


Now that it's fall,

with leaves like confetti,

I heed the call,

and make myself ready.


For the months to come,

I curl up in my nook,

How is it for some,

out the window I look.


Mother Earth in her glory,

Father Sky from above,

For nothing I¨m sorry,

But filled with love.

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