Friday, June 18, 2021

summer at midday

 June days when the wind comes out of the southwest 

hot--smelling of highways & old diners 

the pony runs between the white line & the sage 

time sweeping the hours to twilight 

as the sun transforms skin to golden shadows 

ageless 

possibility stretches from horizon to hope

and back again 

how wild these days

how tender the ride 

No comments:

Post a Comment