Running through the orchard.
Rabbits running haywire.
The country breeze scattering stones on
the country road.
The long, winding country road.
It's that kind of season.
We've waited hours for the storm to come.
The wind picks up.
It won't set us down.
We wait patiently for Summer.
We can see what we plunder.
The skies never darken here.
The rain never comes.
The declining years are in for the long haul.
No comments:
Post a Comment