Written on January 7, 2025
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"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape—the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show." - Andrew Wyeth Gentle flakes wish on frozen stars Poetries, like grace, write memoirs The night sounds like a shadow’s song Listening to rhythms who belong Moon rises against black of night Still as the words making hearts right Remember the Poet’s words so strong Listening to rhythms who belong Snow falls in silence, soft as clouds Causing night to sing to the crowds Twilight kills whatever is wrong Listening to rhythms who belong Gentle flakes wish on frozen stars Listening to rhythms who belong
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