Autumn The autumn leaves run like madmen, in every direction, up the hills and through the fields, like fearless warriors they push on, the trees stand tall and firm, like magnificent towers in their path, untouched by the wind, they mimic it's silence, and the rich green grass grows, taller and taller, like a shield to stop these madmen's flight, while the warm sun hangs low on the horizon, as if to follow the birds into the night
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