All summer she basked
in the sun.
Now the days are dwindling,
the autumn wind is gusting,
and hope courses
through her veins.
She changes quietly
she has much to do before
becoming
a tree of splendor,
before she sheds
each ruby leaf
and finds the beauty in release.
“Be gentle,” she whispers
to the others (but more so to herself)
“Give me grace
while I transform.”
This is a beautiful poem, Erin! Thank you for expressing your thoughts 🥰
Sent from my iPhone
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Thank you đź’›
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