Endless SkyAutumn Writer© Copyright 2012 A wind is blowing soft upon the plainin early hours that wait the break of day.Grasses bend and shake their headsat meager light that turns their blades to gray.The morning air is chilling and I yearnFor the warm abode from where I came. In the east appears a tepid glowwhere the earth turns under the horizon.It is the promise of the morning sun to be:the burning star that lights th...