By: Noah Merideth
I walk through fields like a jigsaw of yellow and orange;
as autumn day turns to a cold, crisp evening,
with clouds rolling over; water quickly falls from the heavens.
The air turns colder as the evening turns darker;
rain turns to flakes of ice,
as a new season awakens from a long nap once again.
Then I hear master’s call and realize the job I have left;
I run to herd these white animals to the barn and then sleep myself.
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