The year goes, the woods decay, and after, many a summer dies.
Love that line that starts, Lyrical poetry didn't die..., and the analysis that follows. Although the modern world seems to be drowning in identities and semantics, lexical structures and their resulting music gives one breath to consider the wind.
Thanks. Taking a moment to focus on the shape of things forces you to stop talking and actually listen instead. A waning skill in the internet age.
Love that line that starts, Lyrical poetry didn't die..., and the analysis that follows. Although the modern world seems to be drowning in identities and semantics, lexical structures and their resulting music gives one breath to consider the wind.
Thanks. Taking a moment to focus on the shape of things forces you to stop talking and actually listen instead. A waning skill in the internet age.