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Tree
Walking alone in a courtyard,
Stepping into the shade of a tree,
The rustling sound of my feet,
Is the whisper of her life.
The autumn wind is sobbing,
Playing a sad string rhyme.
The sky is high,
A flock of wild geese passing by.
A fallen leaf broke into my sight,
Brushed my cheek gently,
Swirled into the wind.
I slowly stretched my hand,
And let it float into my palm.
The leaves are turning from green to yellow to orange to red.
Falling down from her one to two to three to four to five.
She is crying,
I know.
I’m crying,
Who knows?
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A descriptive poem of tree's falling leaves.