Joy
Joy is weathered pine branches
arched above your head
a frisky wind to toss your hair
and carry laughters threads
Joy is a cold metal swing
layered with straw
the prickly warmth of covering
lovingly placed by an amber Fall
Joy is the distant cold
nudging out the unwelcome warmth
chimneys exhaling reverantly
at Mother Nature's performance
Joy is the symphony
of the fiercest give and take
a seasonal concerto
of the elated alto and the grieving bass
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