An Autumn Tale

>> Monday, November 17, 2008

Yellow and withered..I wander aimlessly with the gentle breeze..I hate to fall on the dusty road amongst those others..discolored crumpled leaves.. I  prefer the grass which is still fresh and green..

I wait for you to come and gently pick me up , blow the dust off me, and place me amongst those white crisp pages of your diary....No wind to blow me away, No feet to walk over me..

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