The woods the sky and the moon turn to grey.
October will walk away soon, they all say.
The harvest is at hand and we waltz to the sound.
Tracing foot steps of our fathers who once walked these grounds.
Never shale my life be measured less than this.
Like the shaddow of the light on the moon on the woods in the mist.
Like a candle in a cabin window, I ponder the wit.
And smile for a long while, for friends and memorierys I shall not forget.
Just wanted to to put this out here to have some fun, lighten up.
Best of luck this fall.
Just for fun remembering
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