Red morning…

Summer palette deepens. The road curves toward home, overgrown and dusty. Notebooks fill up like baskets full of dry and fragrant kindling.

I watch as hummingbirds thrum by – feathered kinetic energy. Studying cloud wisps, I imagine myself reclining on a raft, bobbing through a distant August day. It is delightful to be in multiple times at once.

Within pages, beneath a canopy of leaves,
Words whisper in my ear, are caught from the corner of my eye,
In the seasons of existence, there is no moment to waste.


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