These are my thoughts. They are not meant to make sense. They are my echo into the woods. I am the tree that falls, and it is here that I make a sound.
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Tuesday, September 28, 2004


Today is breezes of apples
ready to fall, blushing at their lushness.

The complex mating
dance of copper leaves begins,
slow til the climax yet weeks away.

Aging Iris nods her head,
nearing sleep, but still rich with velvet
dark promise.

Tonight is the courtship
of moonlight and cedar trees,
a fragrant chase of dark upon dark upon dark.

Gentle silken webs whisper
to fading roses, who sigh
and dampen in predawn dew.

And the night passes witness,
a midwife to

Blogger moodymicello said...
Very nice. I've been there. It's beautiful, yes?  

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