September.
A hammock.
White cumulus rolling quietly through postcard blue skies.
Muted sunlight on tired leaves and branches.
Days of dust rests lightly on evening primrose.
Sulfurs frolic among stems of bitterweed and tightly closed morning glory.
A single glistening web drifts lightly on the breeze,
as melancholy grasshoppers sing summers last song.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment