I do not regret the way I ran those last few miles of path desperate to reach the place it branched off to something new. But now I’ll slow take in the smell of pine and drink the colder air till sun and heat combine and wander with me long along this road.
Read more "New Trails"It patter taps on straw, soft and low and muffled like the bird. But when I try and tiptoe past the watchful trees still hear and see. – The sentinels gaze down. Wise and wake they solemn, rise and shake above my head their sprinkle spread: drips of crystal drops for free. – The woods […]
Read more "Rain in the Trees"
melenoria 