Leafy Stories

I lean against the marble statue With closed eyes, I slide down her form ‘til I’m sitting – and I listen to the sounds The sounds of Leafy, our city, our secret. No more.  But was she ever? How could children claim an entire city As their “secret place?”   She’s different now you know – our Leafy New and modern.  Buildings. Ships. Gardens. Countless faces I don’t know… But beneath it all, she’s still the same.   Here at t...