Amanda, Age 10, Nappanee, IN
Geese honk their sober farewell,
Leaves rustle,
Wind whispers in my ear,
The field is lonely and bare,
Grass crunches beneath my shoes,
And there I sit and watch the trees sleep,
Soon leaves will fall and then turn brown,
The days get shorter,
nights get longer,
And I get more and more restless,
Until I canít sleep,
I listen to wind outside my window,
hear it grow and die,
Grow and die,
As everything falls into a deep slumber.
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