The leaves float gently and silently to the ground.

The sunlight filters softly through the tree limbs and warms my

face

The wind whips up and the leaves on the ground dance in a

funnel.

Rocks live in communes along the sides of the Road

they serve as a dam for the silent flood of trees.

The gentle giants stand silently frozen in step contributing to

the mess upon the ground without even moving.

The gravel crunches in protest to the pressure of my feet.

As I look back it's easy to see that the prints of my feet

are the only witness to the path I weave.

As I look back at my path through the trees, I can

watch it fade through the dancing leaves.