The wide boughs were a

salve for the ground, a healing

after a full day of sun.

A shield of bark brandished

its protective sword, restraining

storms while shielding against time.

Winds push daylight to the horizon.

Night clams the forest. Flowers

close. Sonorous breezes lower to

a soft breath. The aroma within

the air marks a season of change.

Clouds appear stronger. Rains are

cold. Voices are few.

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