Freedom an’ Whisky
By Nikolyn Williams
As time goes by, the still and the quiet become more and more familiar. I sometimes wonder if this is not some kind of prelude or conditioning if you will to what is to come. As the leaves on the trees once more begin, their melancholy dance of farewell, summer is coming to and end. It is their last dance before they fade away. It is very different from when they sprang into life just a few short months ago.
The breeze begins to blow, readying to carry them to another slumber. It whispers an ancient but familiar story as it blows through my hair. They twinkle as they flow too and fro as if they are waving goodbye for a time. I sit and listen as long as I can, as if it is the voice of a long lost love is communicating in some foreign yet not so foreign language. Farewell my little green friends, although we have a little longer together. I know you will soon have to go. When you get there tell the ones I love hello. Although, I think they know tell them I miss them tell them I know.