Leaves drift from glade to glade soundless, save the russel like silk against the blade.
Free.
Bringing with them sents and sounds from where hence they have come.
Each leaf carries a tale, some of sadness some of joy.

All you have to do is stop and listen.......

Ears turn to the sound eyes watch their movment
As they glide and jerk, buffeted by the elements,
Some fall buy the wayside their stories untold
others drift so high that only the swifts with their slicing wings will hear the news, screaming it down to those below.

All you have to do is stop and listen......