you smell it before you see it: woodbine peeking from behind the stonewall
Tag: freedom
grim clouds on the coast: wishing you a gentle journey
it’s not weird to believe: the dew of dark belongs to the stars
back of the bus autumn takes the slow ride into winter
the river grey lashes out like a cornered beast whenever the great bell is rung
death’s grip on the trunk and strangely fear is gone
laughter with the autumn rain is a festival if you believe it so
larger than life: silence that grows after the first thunder of autumn
autumn skies darken and catkin shadows come out to play
caught in the autumn haze: wildflowers seem closer to home
