don’t you know
there’s music everywhere—
ah ha! leaves
Is it not delightful to think about dancing? Passing by the familiar grove of bare trees, it was the percussive sounds—tick tickety tickety-tock tock-tick, like tap dancing—that caught my ear, making me stop and look up to watch last winter’s leftover leaves dancing to the music of their own fluttering, flapping, flipping, flickering beating beat. This old tree coming to life.
