begins in blue glow. tulip trees–and red oaks,
pines, poplars, willows come forth first.
rising red-orange glows over bluegrasses–
and switchgrasses and fruity-fresh, purple
pitcher sage. all sway in gentle breezes
after yet another rain. threads of colors mesh
into blue-grey clouds tinged in white. sun
now stronger casts its glow-magic on all below.
i open window’s door, settle onto porch swing,
to gentle sway of wind and earth and water
and fiery feelings as i gaze upon quarter-horse
sister, destined not to race but be companion.
sugary scents of hay cut yesterday wafts
round and birds flit by–cardinals, yes,
and bluebirds, sparrows, now yellow warblers
with their sweet, sweet, sweet songs. bees ignite
on goldenrod–and bee balm, sunflowers,
zinnia rainbows. i step out, barefoot, yes,
and dig my toes into this borrowed earth.
grateful to understand.