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| The End Can Be Beautiful |
It is early Saturday morning.
The October sun has not yet brightened the sky.
I can see gray clouds and a breeze stirs the trees.
Their leaves have lost their green color.
They are gold and red and shades of brown.
They hang their awaiting their turn to fall to the ground.
Their time of work is over and they are called home.
They accumulate on the ground and turn to dust.
The leaves provide nourishment for the next of their kind.
And nature comes full circle again.
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