When the sun is still behind the earth,
painting clouds pink from below,
blue has not yet chased away the grey,
clinging to the clouds and the horizon
until Dawn spreads her fingers,
encircling the world...
But the wonders of light
and the glory of color
can be taken with one grain of salt
or another
So many don't bother
and so pass the hours
until you can't distinguish one day
from another...
Thoughts turning like fall colors,
not just the trees
but each leaf changing
the time
The late morning dew,
still on fallen leaves,
sparkles as the wind
bends the trees to its will...
Heard the wind rustling,
murmuring among the pines,
whispering along the water's edge
Along a familiar path
with wild flowers as old friends,
how rude of me not to know their names...
This was written sometime in the '90s during my time in the beautiful state of Wisconsin - the scenery was so beautiful and it always amazed me when i would stop the car and stare at what i thought was an amazing vista whilst other cars just zoomed by... peace
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