Harsh winds howl past
Creeping far over the rise
Across the lonely skies.
Down in the valley below
The leaves are blown around
In the wistful currents abound.
Leaves cry in the bitter wind
Carrying loud whimpers and moans
For their final destination’s unknown.
Some might feel much sorrow
Now knowing where they’ll fly
And so to the winds they cry
Out to the sun and sky
And over great earthen mounds,
“Die down, bitter wind, die down!”
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