They say fall brings the first sign of
chill in the air.
I say Chronus kisses me, to show that
he cares.
They say fall is a goodbye, brings life
to a close.
I say summer's hot, hectic; fall's
needed repose.
Some live for the former. I swear by
the latter.
The baseball's more pleasant, and
actually matters.
The leaves stampede around in great
herds and mobs, frantic.
The breeze blows. The world buzzes
with natural static,
But God gets the contrast and color
just right.
I can't help but smile. I can't help
but write
In the fall in Montana.
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