got the tree put up today. Nor, say, about
the welcome winter chill (in Florida, this means
any number below 80). Lately, I don't feel like
writing anything, the truth be told. I'm
tired and feeling old and dream of days
on end without the Internet, not even
via phone so I would have the perfect
reason and excuse for failure finding
inner muse material. No stress or turmoil
only time and miles and peace with days
of walking on the beach, or up a mountain trail,
campfire when it's dark, enjoyed with lots
of stories of the kind that never fail to make
me laugh, accompanied by Dixie cups
of wine. I want to look up at the stars
and find Orion's belt and point out
constellations to impress you as you
nuzzle there against my neck.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment