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Autumn Leaves
volume 6 number 7
Autumn Leaves volume 6 number 7 |
My feet go flying on glittering steel
down the brook
winding among the hills,
white oak standing in a snow filled dream
beside the
glimmering ice clad stream
that runs like a path of smooth dark glass
through the
snow capped trees and covered grass.
I skim and I fly past drifts so deep,
where silence
reigns and cold and sleep:
no sound but a whisper, a spinning twing
as the shrill of
steel on the blue ice rings,
and the sound of cold wind close behind
and the sound of
joy in my flying mind.
