slipping in so quietly
with no coat to hang,
no boots stamp-stamping the ground,
I barely noticed until today,
this same brittle morning
you chose to announce your return.

a first mist asleep on car windows
rehearsing its winter's role,
as early signs of decay
crackle on earth's new carpet,
tired trees in muted shades
breathe damp infusions.

as autumn's shadows grow,
summer prepares to leave.

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