There’s a crisp bite in the night air
That steels the blood into a force
And energizes the will to harvest
The fields of hope and bounty.
Warm autumn tones paint the county
As brother wolf calls to protest
The sun’s heavy southerly course
As day and night exchange the light’s
fare.
A sullen horizon waits in cold stare
Bidding for winter’s white horse.
While the hare and bear lay abreast
In the cave of sleep and downy.
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