Old Man Autumn

The brilliant orb in the sky

sets slightly sooner than it used to,

almost as if to say,

“I’m getting tired now.”

Leaves have begun to color,

and soon thereafter fade,

ruefully shed by the branches

that somehow seem to slump.

Though the air has grown cooler,

life appears to slow its course

and movements require effort;

at least more than before.

The weight of wind grows heavy

and the atmosphere becomes weary,

though the breeze still rustles

beneath the aged beauty of the trees.

And while the days have grown tired,

and though the winters impose,

the sun will shine brightly through

each of the world’s elder souls.

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