Me, inhaling. A treefrog calling for a mate. The breeze through infant leaves. The sounds of night in the garage, back door open to the yard in blackness and I do not see what may be scampering about. Skunk, rabbits, deer, fox, coyote; the turkeys are asleep. Maybe, if I’m wrong, lost souls are wandering about as well.
Inside again, tv, laptop fan, spousal snoring calling to his mate.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Very nice. Especially…
Thank you. The backyard seems to keep me thinking in imagery, and the images are constantly changing.