but listen closer and you'll hear the creek hurrying on as though late to an important engagement, branches flexing their sore muscles, twigs breaking under the hooves of passing deer. Listen closer still and you'll hear the content sigh of a tired garden being tucked in for the winter, the whisper of weary grape vines finding a soft place to rest.
Peace, be still.
1 comment:
You should publish a photography/poetry book.
Beautiful!
Melanie
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