Fallen leaves whisper, In the autumn air, Secrets of the past, Weighted down with time. And I walk, A traveler, In the stillness, Remembering The brightness, Of each day.
- Sylvia Plath
Fallen leaves whisper, In the autumn air, Secrets of the past, Weighted down with time. And I walk, A traveler, In the stillness, Remembering The brightness, Of each day.