this is fall
leaves crunching and crackling beneath my feet as i walk slowly falling, swept by the wind a fresh crisp breeze blows past this is fall my dark orange scarf warms up my neck my nose turns red from the cool air i walk down a gravel road leading me to a place i don’t know this is fall i walk past a mocha brown grandfather tree and see an owl’s big yellow eyes staring back at me from the top of the tree this is fall i hear the rustling sound of leaves, scurried across by chipmunks and they scratch up the tree trunk making way to their cozy nests for an afternoon nap this is fall i stumble upon a small coffee shop, hidden beneath the trees i order a peppermint tea “it’s on the house” they say this is fall i step back out into the cool air turning my cheeks bright pink this is fall
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PoetryWelcome to the poetry section. Here, you will find insightful poems by O. Henry students. Archives
December 2019
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