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I see the brick house

Across the street, across it

Tan siding, white trim


I see skeletons

Bare trees, reaching up their arms

To the sky, no leaves


I see the tan house

Across the street and with

White, white trim as well



Streets, there’s that sand-colored house

Bright red bush out front


Almost hidden house

Behind the sand-colored one

Such a snowy white


Two garage doors are

Very wide open, I see

And basketball hoops


Some trees still have their

Fall-colored leaves, hanging on

To their drowsy branch


I see some bushes

One bright red, others are green

Shutters on houses


A bare mailbox

One adorned with pretty plants

I cannot see mine


My curtains are light

Yellow and orange, white strings

I think they’re called sheer


Out of my window

Summer changing to autumn

Peaceful neighborhood

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