Mild autumn morning bites,
The nights somber breezes
Watching trees shrouded in light
My favourite pen with words eases
This small Austrian town is quiet
Sleeping; in a world I am bound
Fresh words form on empty pages
Noisy poems inked without sound
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 
“Noisy poems inked without sound”
Lovely!
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Thank you.
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A beautiful place to be, to write in isolation.
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