This has always been my favorite time of the year, the begging to the end summer, where the air is soft, cool, like a dream. The light breeze blowing your hair south and the clouds barley cover the sky, letting the deepest of orange sunsets fall like eyelids of someone so at peace. You couldn't enjoy it without letting not only their mind but their body enjoy the moment. Its the begging of fall, the changing leaves falling from their branches like willted petals, the smell of camping and coffee in the air. Everything in sight, from the birds to the sky, is an original God and the waft of cigar smoke makes the moment that much more significant.
- someone who loves the fall.
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Ne Decorem
Poetry"Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?" - Virginia Woolf
