Leaf-lush
primal joy,
a magnet
drawing woodsmen
step by wide-eyed step.
Forrest bound
and snug,
wound tight
but somehow natural
in tree-cloaked garb.
and still
in the magic
of the first light
the world
as we were meant to see it:
waking,
alive
without the glare
of a cruel sun,
autumnal
and ripe for the taking.
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