Fall mornings - Jessie Marston
The warm fire burning inside
smells of wood and hot apple cider
the breezy outdoors, makes me cold and I shiver
cuddled up inside my cape of warmth
eyes slightly closed
while I listen to the whispers of the wind racing between the old apple orchard
my apple cider is hot, the steam curls up to my nose
blow on it slowly, fog blinds my glasses
on the chilly fall day, I tend to drift away.
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