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.


Follow Stories Like This
Get the Monitor stories you care about delivered to your inbox.

Share

Loading...