The leaves are turning,
one by one carried away in the crisp wind […]
Away, away,says the blue and gold day,
and no one hears it but the wind,
whose law it echoes.
The dog has a red ball to chase.
You pick a flat, perfect stone
for the wall you hope to live long enough to rebuild.
I prune briars,
pick burrs from the dog’s fur.
I teach Come and Sit. Sit here —
a longer sit beneath the cedars.
The grass is freshly cut,
sun low,
all the energy of a summer’s day rushing into bulb and root.
The dog runs off, returns.
The stones balance steeply.
Good work. Good dog.
This is heaven.
Sit. Stay.
Sources: Photo – Wallpaperscraft. Poem: The Sensual Starfish
wow, that’s one beautiful dog! cute poem too 🙂
It really is!
How I loved this!
Simple, yet so beautiful And the close…wonderful
Mmmmmm, I loved this!
Me too!
You know it spoke to me 🙂
Smiling, me too. Me too.
A picture painted with words.
It is ALL that, Lulu.
Ahh. “rushing to bulb and root.” That would be me.
So evocative, these particular words. Yes.