Autumn
She's a daughter of the breeze to day,
A wild, directionless thing-
She gambols through the trees, at play,
And makes the branches sing.
Subcreator
The world unchanged by one unseen face,
The world unmoved by one unheard voice;
Yet creators continue anyway, meant to make
A reflection of Creation in their fake.
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Hello, fellow writers! I love it when we can inspire each other and help one another grow. With this in mind, keep it friendly and on-topic.
Have a great day! ;)