september_lost pete windswept hills holding the colours of october's pride pry away at the passing days through equilibrium's ride foot paths with florescent roots twist between the curves, finding the streams of human thought to quench the thirst brough about by the undying wind pages blown across the welcoming site where just days ago the youth met to run the best races of their lives come unwelcomed into the cornerstone of tattered lives when an hour of morse code finally recedes and the rain falters into the dusk, summoning the liars to leave or whimper september is lost in the light of autumn and swept away by the scrapping rake of dead life being mistaken for useless life 041005 ... pete 2nd stanza.. brough=brought 041005 ... symphonic in another tale spoken, behind the wall they whispered, loving the pure crispness of the speeches they gave, as the time was a slow burn in the haste of jilted love. where has the grass grown tall? where is the subtlety of your glances? even though they remain at the river's edge, the flash flood of the oak creaking overhead, got caught in Horus's challenge and became the arrow shot at the sun. in our september_lost, it challenged what we knew of ourselves, and what we wished upon for others. 041005 ... . . 060912 ... . . 060912 ... Doar I've kept this in my head along time Pete. I hope you still check in every once in awhile to scan blather. Good words are always easy to read. . 220624 ... past thanks for the kind words doar. (i mostly just lurk in the blue.) 220627 ... Doar Still beautiful words. Thank you very much for writing them. . 220628 what's it to you? who go blather from