Every year as summer approaches and the first hay is cut,
I search for the words to describe this...
Another try...
First cuttings lay in the fields,
Like slumbering ruins,
Waiting for Winter's long hunger.
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If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?
SC
_____________________________
Here is the desk drawer in which all of my odds and ends are kept, tidbits that would otherwise never see the light of day.
Life: Now and Then
If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?
SC
_____________________________
Here is the desk drawer in which all of my odds and ends are kept, tidbits that would otherwise never see the light of day.
Smell the new cut hay
ReplyDeleteIt is the smell of new life
Same again next year