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I walk a slice of countryside pasted into the city,
filling my pockets with conkers pilfered from the feet of trees.
Earphones in and turned up loud,
mouthing words of favourite songs,
arms out & flying.
Autumn sun pours its warming touch on my face,
Cold wind snags in my hair and whispers to me of winter days to come.
I embrace it with open arms,
Smile at the sky,
And continue my hunt for conkers.

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