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The Long Thursday ....

*At the collision of timothy and zoysia , where Crape Myrtles reveal their late morning luster , where luminosity and cloud continually sketch , color and reinvent open pastures , individuality forever fading , leaving sadness at the afternoon approach then gone Hours without occupation , warmth and windsong   Tethered , embittered and hidden*...
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Written by
randolph-l-wilson
Published
May 5, 2016
Lines·Words
6·54
Notes

Copyright May 4 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved

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