There is a quietness in the fall and one really has to listen to hear it. Most wait until deep in winter and think they hear it, but that is winter's sleep- a silence- and not the stillness of which I speak. The sound I hear is of leaves changing colors…. the most beautiful quiet in nature.
------------------ if you can dream; you can fly...if you are flying; you are dreaming.
Robert..yet again you have surprised me! How have I missed you? I really like your style! Keep it up!(I wrote a poem called "To Drink the Wind" about riding my horse in the fall.) ~eagerly scrolling down the list for yet another RobertB poem~ *smiles* Izzy
Glen Hope, PA USA