The days are not getting warmer anymore
the sun exits earlier, getting more and more bored of this northern wasteland
the trees and grass are green, but in a lazy, suspended summer animation sort of way
something is in the air
the mornings (like this one)
are calm, sunny, but in an unspoken tension
that softly breathes and battles :
not for long,
natures' silently, secretly preparing for death
the coma of winter
that follows the fall
will decend before we know it
time is no friend of mine
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