Looking down,
Dirty shoes and blood-scattered trail,
Bits of flesh and fur marking the path of a hunter
Musk filled my nostrils
Inhaling herb behind a pine tree
Finding church in it's outstretched arms
Turning around,
I saw you
The light
I ran before I missed your exalted celebration
My heart pattering like my feet
Crisp air piercing my lungs with peppermint freshness
Sprinting to you
I pulled out my camera
Hoping to capture even an edge of your face
Autumn, thou art a celestial,
noble-herding gallantry of virtues.
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