A lovely collection of lyrics, and a nice autumn sketch. To the former, I add:
Bruce Cockburn, "Don't Feel Your Touch":
"In front of a new-born moon Pushing up its glistening dome I kiss these departing companions Take the next step alone ..."
And to the latter:
"Something minor key and seductive in the fading melancholy of the season, something in the tart-within-sweet taste of old-fashioned pippins, in the smell of bonfires, in the rustle of ankle-deep leaves ..." - INCIDENT AT TWENTY MILE, Trevanian, p.1
no subject
Bruce Cockburn, "Don't Feel Your Touch":
"In front of a new-born moon
Pushing up its glistening dome
I kiss these departing companions
Take the next step alone ..."
And to the latter:
"Something minor key and seductive in the fading melancholy of the season, something in the tart-within-sweet taste of old-fashioned pippins, in the smell of bonfires, in the rustle of ankle-deep leaves ..." - INCIDENT AT TWENTY MILE, Trevanian, p.1
A good time for writing, no?