Red leaves on the bough—
Framed softly by the window,
Autumn breathes its glow.
Quiet branches lean,
Painting fire on the glass pane—
A still world between.
Red leaves on the tree—
in the window they tremble
as if overheard.
A passerby stops;
their reflection joins the sway,
briefly belonging.
Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge #349 – Mom With a Blog

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