falling leaves in the wind


a fox scurries past


shooting stars up above


into the thicket


to where the rabbit led



a foot on a tree no earth below


the cover of night



crows at sun rise


fog lifts on the horizon


startled to wake up



a lookout on the mountain



to find a fertile valley below


the touch of the dew in the tall blade grass


feet soaked in the mud


a running of the bulls


hour glass in a meadow



More posts by this author:

Please follow and like us:

Co Authors :

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.