Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees And fall. ~ Adelaide Crapsey The wind is howling this morning; it will make short work of the few leaves that still cling to branches. It was odd, a few weeks ago when the snowpocalypse
Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees And fall. ~ Adelaide Crapsey The wind is howling this morning; it will make short work of the few leaves that still cling to branches. It was odd, a few weeks ago when the snowpocalypse
