Follow

October
The winter birds are crying
And the cold North wind is blowing
Trees are bending southerly
Wild air moves through their leaves
There are pipits on the wires
Telling stories about summer
And the crows are climbing brave
Into the grey, grey day
My world's a misty hinterland
Where water gods are playing
Where the fields are rippling, full
Of the rains from yesterday
The road is like a river
Its surface shining silver
And new-made streams are flowing
Autumn trickling away.

Sign in to participate in the conversation

CounterSocial is the first Social Network Platform to take a zero-tolerance stance to hostile nations, bot accounts and trolls who are weaponizing OUR social media platforms and freedoms to engage in influence operations against us. And we're here to counter it.