love this
Leaves dance down the asphalt, on their way to who know's where. Cold winds are blowing thru the trees, leaving their branches bare. Autum day's are upon us. Winter, not far behind. The night's grow long, hearlding winter's song. In it's music, peace, you may find. |
Comments 1 to 3 of 3
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Comments 1 to 3 of 3
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