Wind Echoes

Seagulls Are Teardrops with Wings

WIND ECHOES. Like the falling leaf, speaks to all manner of men. In Spring, lifes spark became a flame. Then Summer winds fanned fire into an all-consuming inferno. The Autumn glows bravely on, spasmodically fed by fallen leaf and broken twig. And Now, midst deciduous starkness, a gloomy ember simmers its hissing last, beneath falling snow. Listen to the wind echoes. Feel my touch.