Walk the rails under a high blue sky. Find the sag in the leaning fence, and step--carefully--over rusted wire. Follow a peninsula of blond grasses through a lake of loam, and come, at last, to the timber's edge where gray branches trace the sky and rose hips curl near purple canes.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Deep Down Things
the scent of spring in a March snow
the first red blush in the timber
a sudden remembrance that life can be sweet
a sister's voice, a sister's understanding
:) <3
ReplyDelete<3 <3 <3 You are so precious to me.
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