Swindling all the small things, Trolling graveyards
For ghosts that just don't seem to be anywhere
I think they live in the imagination alone.
Yet my fingers wave in the wind like leaves,
They ready to break off and fall,
Slowly - graceful like circus acrobats.
Eventually settling on the ground.
Mmm..I always did love the crackling
sound autumn leaves make..
Almost like walking through fire,
Almost like home..