Midnight emptiness
The air is warm,and heavy.
The call of the wild is the voice of a friend,carried on the whisper of wind as it…
There is no,
crueler joke that nature plays,
I’ve often thought,
that you can keep the sunny days.
I see Autumn through,
my front door,
When she sits down,
to write.
As a poem
I walk along,
an Autumn road,
A footpath in the forest,
a throughway in the,
You may fade,
into the light,