A swollen old tree, Blue and Smokey. Where a knot, extended Splits into the ground. A Home, a muse. Beauty not built, But shaped by opportunity. It holds a place Living a lifetime Right off the wayside. Do you notice, Or would it pass you by?
The sunlight hits The side of the hill, Ricocheting off Tall thin grasses. ~~~ Tickling the air Between each Exhale blown. ~~~ Black metal fences shine in their glory, The whole way round. ~~~ Funny little insects Dance and bounce, Illuminated In the suns last rays. ~~~ As it falls below the horizon, Ho-hum. A … Continue reading Each Sundown – June 24, 2019