the whispering places….

The green and grassy fields are browning, summer’s wild things bursting into seed and I walk among them now and listen to the whispering places all crispy and wavy and whooshing as Autumn sings her brave songs about how there is grace in even endings, a re-set to rest, a keeping sails set and waiting for winds…

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of grasses and gold….

The green and grassy fields are browning, summer’s wild things bursting into seed and I walk among them now and listen, the whispering places, all breezy and waving and whooshing as Autumn sings her brave songs. about how there is grace in endings a re-set to rest, a keeping sails set and waiting for  winds…

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