Early morning, Strolling East alone Along University Avenue In cool crisp air,
The woody smell of Moist leaves, Like cushioning carpet Beneath my feet, Muffled my footsteps.
Hint of first frost Looked like glistening glass On the withering grass.
Rude sun rising Shining directly Into my eyes Blinding me with white light.
No wind. The world was at Peace - Quiet and still - Stilling my soul.
Maple leaves, Yellow, red and rust; Were lazily Fluttering All around me Like wounded butterflies.
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