In November,
the trees are standing all sticks and bones.
Without their leaves, how lovely they are,
spreading their arms like dancers.
They know it is time to be still.
Notes: Photo – Anna Williams. Poem Source: Your Eyes Blaze Out
I can't sleep…
In November,
the trees are standing all sticks and bones.
Without their leaves, how lovely they are,
spreading their arms like dancers.
They know it is time to be still.
Notes: Photo – Anna Williams. Poem Source: Your Eyes Blaze Out