I woke this morning
and there he was.
Dressed in the deepest hues,
calling me out.
Inviting me to breathe his
coolness and feel
the crispness of his touch.
My orange and yellow friend.
Astounding me with
his art. As always,
he would be leaving
too soon.
A bitter-sweet parting
in fading color.
But he's here now,
as promised, sheltering me,
temporarily, from summer's rays
and winter's frosty bite.
Spring, his sister, foretold
his coming with fresh buds
and green grasses.
And here he is, my autumn,
my reminder that
all things, good and bad,
will fade away.
My promise that
life ends only as colorful
as I paint it.
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