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By Sarah Sutro
bright gold yellow apples
tumbled out below a tree
you see –
what Fall brings,
whether here or in the mind’s
splendid counting,
all sprung
the fruit aglow gone to
green lawns of future
being – beyond
which the eye,
powerfully
prone to build on
all pinnacles of gorgeous
overlapping beauty
points out – applauds –
revels in the green gold glory