one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day15
Sunset on Sundown Road, Laytonsville, Maryland. January 15
Leaving; riding beside the split-rail toward the sundown road. In the crisp winter air, the smell of oak wood smoke fades; the warmth of your whisper still wrapped like wool around me.
::
wool is always the warmest.
ReplyDeletethis is beautiful.
I am amazed at how well some writers take the simplest observations of the physical word -- very plain and direct in fact -- and weave them with such warmth and emotion. Lovely.
ReplyDeletethe now and the just a bit ago, interwoven to make me feel warm. very nice.
ReplyDelete