The Leaves they are-a-changin from exciting to green to mellow red. I watch them fall on to the pavement and memories of campfires dance in my head.
The wind picks up and the temperature drops, french vanilla on my breath. Summers gone and christmas is just around the corner
The bitter cold fights the overwhelming heat given off by my warm blooded skin. Its times like these when girls become women, boys become men,
I walk into a fammiliar avenue and an aroma of columbian roast dances in to my scent. One that came but one that never went. I take a seat at a cherry oak booth and marvel at paintings portrayed on the roof.
I take a sip of Java and touch my pad to pen and all of a sudden I feel home again. I begin to jot down images of the coming seasons, when something magical happens. A sudden hit of inspiration. Its You. Its always been you.
Created: Mar 05, 2010Document Media