Ridgeline1 week ago10A Yellow Road at NoonStanding still, the silver grass bends in the wind. Yellow needles pass behind my back.
On windy days, the boiler room door rattles. Today it's quiet, not even that sound. I was by the window watching a few yellow leaves fall.
An afternoon when the wind takes a brief rest. The yellow leaves fallen by the window—I too saw the sky through them.
The rustling underfoot slows my steps. That sound has already fallen behind.