Pray the foghorn comes no closer;
bringing thunder over rolling waves.
A stampede across an open prarie
bellowing with ancient lungs.
Are there secrets with the crickets?
Whispering in harmony
to the rustling leaves?
There is no hospitality
in silence.
Conversation lives between everything that breathes.
May 18, 2020
May 18, 2020 at 9:07 PM UTC
Pray the foghorn comes no closer;
bringing thunder over rolling waves.
A stampede across an open prarie
bellowing with ancient lungs.
Are there secrets with the crickets?
Whispering in harmony
to the rustling leaves?
There is no hospitality
in silence.
Conversation lives between everything that breathes.