Brittle leaves, glazed with pastel yellows
And reds, forming prismatic canopies
Over silent woods.
An opaque fog pushes its amorphous body
Over the unresisting backs of hills and valleys,
An eerie light descends like a stealthy spirit.
Fragrances of pine needles and mulch
Waft upward, greeting the fog.
The crackling sounds of brown leaves
Shatter the stillness.
I walk through this mystical place
Until I lie upon scented grasses
And dream of worlds too fragile
For remembrance.
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