seasonal sunset before the year's long night— sleepy descent into creative darkness. seeds germinate beneath the cooling ground; there is [i think. i hope] healing in that stillness. i wish and pray for triumphant, awe-inspiring blooms when we all wake. i'll do my best to make something beautiful. i love you, jess
Little Chicken Limerick
You just cannot BEAK this weather, No cloud in the big, blue aether. The chickies are out, Wandering about, Indeed, all birds of a feather.