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A Southern Fall By: Chie Theresa Fujioka on 10/21/2001; 4:55 PM I love nature her game of hiding: the essence of people culture lay captured in the foliage I have known a Northern Fall: --The leaves dripping with blood reds mixed with sun yellows. --The ruthless and restless wind whipping my hair into sullen discord. --The cold jewels icing the world and wreathing my chilled fingertips. But here, where is it? --I see only olive hues colors of a Northern Summer repeated endlessly without regard to season. --The gentle breeze does little to encourage the disobedience upon my head. --The wet heat making the sun melt dripping into the endless ocean. Yet in my gloom, my eyes open: --I see the beautiful blends of colours splashes of ink. --I hear the delighted chuckle of the wind playing an instrument of leaves. --I feel the rain moving clear colour adorning dry blades with melted drops. And like the rubied evening my mood shines because I know the Living gold --Of a Southern Fall--
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