Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Fresh Air


gentle winds flow past the grasslands
tire ruts make their way through
leaving two tracks everywhere they go
I follow them, wandering, whispering
a sweet thought passing in my mind
I go into the woodlands then
and see the burrows of woodchucks
the nests of birds will hold their eggs soon enough
a raccoon crosses the path before me
and whitetails whistle and jump away as I pass by
so delightful to find my way
as I amble through the natural places
and find myself as I sit on a tree stump
breathing in the scent of fresh air

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