Connected

Wind rustles leaves, whispers his secret messages
Golden sun rays kiss my skin, softer now – the year declines
A tiny ant so busy building winter’s stocks
While a blackbird summons early dusk

The wind gets colder, watches start to tick again
Cars are honking, doors are slaming, people rushing home
I grap my bags, I start to run, I hope I’m not too late
While a blackbird summons early dusk

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