WHERE THE LEAVES FALL


In dry Autumn, I rustle off the path.
I rest and look up the silver sky.
Branches twisting, falling leaves.


Comments

  • July 14, 2020
    reply

    Martha West

    Very impressing and beautiful as always ❣️Thank you for all you add and create for the bookbinding history Stopan❣️
    I would think by now you are a Master Bookbinder Yes?

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