If fall should ever disappear,
its rainbow landscape never seen,
I'll dream of leaves of burnished gold
though trees are left forever green.
If summer's heat consumes the air
and chilling winds have passed us by,
I'll have to dream a flock of geese
to travel 'cross October's sky.
A pumpkin, like a harvest moon,
will grow on my imagined vine --
if summer ever fails to leave,
this autumn scene will still be mine.
I'll need a cornucopia
of dreams to take the whole view in
if I should ever learn life's changed
and brilliant fall has never been.
If fall should ever disappear
as if its days have been swept clean,
I'll dream of autumn, crisp and clear,
although the world stays ever green.
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