Switch to Desktop Site
 
 

Four disparate country thoughts

About these ads

Walking in the garden

massages my feet.

Scent of wild rose

smells sugary sweet

like a pink and white swirl

of airborne candy cane.

By night the fireflies

are electric snowflakes drifting

on a hay-scented breeze.

By day the clack clack clacking

of the old man's tractor

leaves snowpiles of clover

in its lees.

Share