I wake in darkness, absorb the taste and textures pored with reflection. Then, rising, walking outside, I receive the morning pour, the ridge touched with light, lit; like a match, crows caw.
I wake in darkness, absorb the taste and textures pored with reflection. Then, rising, walking outside, I receive the morning pour, the ridge touched with light, lit; like a match, crows caw.
Cathy's Blog! 