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I woke up to cold, northern winds rustling through the leaves...
The cold North wind blows--
Herald of coming winter.
Focus turns inward.
The cold North wind blows--
Herald of coming winter.
Focus turns inward.
Sitting at the computer, watching golden leaves blown into the air...
Leaves whirling, dancing--
Blown from their moorings..aloft.
Death comes on the wind.
Leaves whirling, dancing--
Blown from their moorings..aloft.
Death comes on the wind.
.