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Seasons
Orange leaves crunch under my feet,
naked tree branches fight with one another.
The air is fickle,
it has a crisp yet humid feeling in it.
The days are short,
The snow fresh on the ground.
The sun hides,
too shy to make an appearance.
Pastel colors fill the ground,
Green buds fill the trees.
I ride my bike down the beach,
Oh look, the birds are back.
The smell of sunscreen fills the air,
a strawberry popsicle runs down my hand.
Kids laugh and play in the street,
the sun is coming out to play as well.
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