winters aftenoon
footpath winding home
silver sheen of rain on tar

branches beckon passing sun
yearning for warmth...  love
pinholes of blue ink-washed sky
comfort frightened dove

trees whisper and sway
shhhhhhh......
a conspiracy of leaves
elizabeth bay

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"A conspiracy of leaves" Love it!

David. L

:) I'd been watching a small whirlpool of dead leaves in my courtyard, swirling round and round... softly scraping the ground and then being lifted upwards again. They were making a sound like... psshh....ppsssshhh...pssshh..... it sounded like they were whispering amongst themselves and I got to wondering about the secret things that leaves discuss amongst themselves.... and yeah.....conspiracy of leaves.... that's how it came to me :)

One of the great benefits of poetry is learning to see everything and everybody around you in 

poetic terms. To look closer at life and live it fully. :)

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