Autumn winds us freshens, poor leaf harshens
To ground from tree for the man's feet on passes
Each season Countless trees’ leaves blown ‘ve been
For new fruits the ripen one shall or ‘ve us to pick
Too heavy for branches to carry so tasty for tongues
Opposite in summer a relief in the name of breeze
Oh in spring! Leaves at night in need to grow much
When winter comes, as slap over faces harsh a such
Eyes, nose, lungs shake, a tear to shed of cold result

Year: 
2019
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