‘Tis wonderful to wake to such a weekend morn:
Sun rises over quiet landscape – no cars or people in sight.
Fall in her riotous colors – leaves creating their dappled patterns of light.
Chirps, squeals, peeps?
Life waking up alright!
Walking under hazy moon in the nite
Celebrating frogs, fire flies, the occasional pool from a household light
Wet, cool, a different world, a different life.
And now? It’s time to call it a nite. Good night.
A dusting of white like frosting on a delicious treat
A new day, a new week, a new belief..
– Snow plow scraping, Revealing stark tarmac –
That snow plow! It disrupted the flow as I walked along the road. Life sometimes just intrudes, sort of like grace and truth. More on that – grace and truth – another time.
We crawl, and then transform ourselves so we can fly
Die many little deaths, to be born/start anew…
(In the first three lines similarity can be seen from something I read in “No Perfect People Allowed” by John Burke.)
On the drive home a little fox ran in front of me across the road
At home a mouse squiggled/squeaked by underneath my toes
As I lay on the grassy slope
Gleaming lines, sparkling blobs = snails here and there
Lots of little things at an odd time of the year
Is it the weather, could it be?
Brightest moon tonight,
Highlighting the white frosting on the road with its light.
Whiff of skunk,
then nothing but wicb rap occupying the night.