Winter Morning

3 comments
For Fun, photography, Poetry, writing

As a rule, winter mornings are gray. And with our place on valley’s edge, fog climbs up and rolls across and sneaks in and sometimes stays until sunset. Today the trees pushed through dawn’s heralding din. March. March. March. As if up the side they stomped. Gah! Retreat into the thick soup of below and leave me a lone smooth mountainside – one that I can trickle water down and create a ginormous, icy slip and slide.

.

.

.

.

in which i write poetical paragraphs

.

.

.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Winter Morning”

If you have somethin' to say, I reckon this is where you should do it. (If you're a newbie hereabouts, your first comment will be held for approval - cuts down on spam.) Thank ye for chatting!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s