The last few leaves hang in balance
Fluttering with November's wind
A few swept away at a time
Burnt orange troopers hang on
Avoiding loss
Knowing there is no solution
With the rain came this time
A prelude to winter
Remains on the carpet
Piled with force
Limbs polished grey with slumber
Line the sky
Barren in their solitude
Awaiting the earthbound flakes.
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