| | Creaking wind forces its way around corners of this house which is only beginning to sag under more years than anyone should stay on earth. The vacant chill of pending winter crouches in the few remaining leaves brave enough to resist the season. They maintain their clinging vitality, fighting to the death and denying the outcome repeated year after year. The ruthlessness of time and life emboldens the beauty, producing brave color among the leaves. Cold air, still fresh and free from sun, wobbles the bike wheels and makes me cry on morning bike rides to class. Daily, I rush into artificial warmth in a whirl of breathlessness and tangled hair, allied in resilience with the leaves. |
| | Posted 10/31/2007 8:03 PM - 89 Views - 0 eProps - 1 Comment
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