The trees shiver as if
Endeavouring to promulgate towards me,
But their roots refuse to yield.
I stroll up to the tree line
And stop -
In an offering.
The branches and stems extend,
Putting a gripper on my limbs;
Pulling me in.
Within a world of ivy and bracken
And foliage, I find myself
Absorbed into a colourful scene
Of various vegetation
Chattering away about how
Autumn is their vacation.
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