the last days of autumn
a drop in the air
mercury in thermometers
up and down the land
retreated
while hardy varieties
hang on to their leaves
conifers listen to the crackle
of their cousins decor
underfoot
and as jack frost paints
on every surface he can see
in mornings fog its icy today
and iced over leaves cheer with glee
its almost christmas – santa’s on his way!
The Inkwell 
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