This one is a little more pleasant than the last two...woot.
"Burnt Toast"
Oh the crunchiness of leaves!
like jumping on burnt toast
or munching stale tortilla chips.
Dangerously charcoal skies
compliment crimson trees,
like the day I first tasted
hot apple cider, curled up
with Ma and Pa Ingalls,
waiting for twilight –
the ideal time to don
my ratty old Converse
and appease the crisp leaves
beside the driveway –
dying to be crunched.
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