Her days are city-bound.
Her life is in the mountains.
The sirens slice through the sun-lit wind.
The mourning doves coo across the glistening lake ripples.
An insurance company clock clicks in the night, flashing the time and then temperature.
A cool breeze plays with her hair as she skips rocks during a lightening bug jamboree.
The dense clouds hang heavy and gray with their unshed tears.
Fingers of God warm her shoulders over moss-blanketed boulders.
A bicyclist trills his bell in warning.
Back to the bustling pavement she goes!
A nearby gentleman grunts under his breath, adjusting his cell phone.
The tawny-looking deer tip-toes through the lush, hillside brush, stilling as she moves on.
A crumpled, plastic bag floats under her feet and catches itself on her shoelace.
The soft, stringy grass cushions her bottom in the hidden glen.
She coughs into her elbow to clear her lungs of the bus’ exhaust fumes.
She inhales deep of the clear blue sky, full of twinkling stars, and into her soul.
Her days are city-bound.
Her life is in the mountains,
along with her heart.
YOU ARE READING
New Moon Day
PoetryA book of poetry and short stories for all of my Mother Nature-loving friends. Thank you, God, for all of life's blessings. On-going. ©2023 and 2024 by A. E. F. All Rights Reserved.
