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8th October 2015
Conkers bounding endlessly.
Bonfires crackling and burning.
Squirrels collecting nuts to hibernate.
As the nights are drawing in.
The sweet smell of roasted Autumn nuts.
The ghostly mist drifting slowly over the moors.
The full moon peeking out of clouds.
Cool, cold, clear water rushing swiftly.
The scent of pine cones.
My stained blackberried lips.
Fingers like icicles.
by Nancy V