The Wind
The wind, it speaks among the leaves, a soft flutter, a touch of sound, like whispers among age old limbs. We know this, you and I, how we hold in the rhythm of it. The trees sway, and we are here.
- Robert Creeley
The Wind
The wind, it speaks among the leaves, a soft flutter, a touch of sound, like whispers among age old limbs. We know this, you and I, how we hold in the rhythm of it. The trees sway, and we are here.