Indian Summer by Blanche Day Manos First, a faint and smoky color creeps across the blue horizon, And the warmth of many campfires seems to hover in the air; Then the leaves turn brown like buckskin on the trees the night wind sighs in, While the lovely Indian summer passes softly as a prayer.
Nov 17, 2013
Changes
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There’s an old Sophie Tucker song, called, “There’ll Be Some Changes Made.” As I look out of my window on the world, I see a lot of the changes occurring this morning because the wind is blowing hard. Leaves are deserting the trees and flying through the air. They lie on the ground, a little […]
