Melody

The dark spindrift reverb

Of grey traced it's way through every Silver lining.

The autumn’s secret of declining. The webs of azure light.

The secret inwardness of insight.

The leaves blue shadows that cascade with wind. The beryled dawn.

The melody of branches swinging, the beat that is hid within.

The secret of grey inlying. In melody of shadows. They are deep as the rippling pools, these copses absent shallows.

And everything seems to take place beneath them. And the heart's balances even. And

restore. In the calm of the world.

What is hid within, is what the wind can only speak indirectly – its ghostly and primeval flowing through these leaves and branches.