A choir of spirits, altos all
Singing a sweet serenade
Glassy and silver, humming, they fall
Darting, they quickly cascade

Crisp amber leaves, glossy gold
under billows of low cast sky
blowing in waves, muddy and cold
casting off drops as they fly

A melody risen of unknown birth
Musicians from mist gathered gray
Heaven sent fingers, playing the earth
Washing my troubles away

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