The wind hears my thoughts
and tells me not to say them,
for words will fly out to them,
seize their sheer gossamer wings
sparkling tinsels of dream drops,
and break them before they fly
to the sky and meet my stars.
eavesdropping
The wind hears my thoughts
and tells me not to say them,
for words will fly out to them,
seize their sheer gossamer wings
sparkling tinsels of dream drops,
and break them before they fly
to the sky and meet my stars.
Impressionist 