disarm me with your Sangre de Cristo attentions
still threaded in azure across miles & miles & miles
knowing comes without beckoning …
forgiveness vessel'd in some seasoned understanding
hanging as it does here upon the cusp of summer
hanging as it does upon the memory of your hands
beauty locked in the acceptance of distance
disarmed? perhaps not so much ….
tender comes the high plains light
easy the moments
hello sweet night ...