Bird migrations, angled rays
of sunshine, marking shorter days; rouging apples, dewy grass soon to frost like crystalled glass; From bumblebees a busy hum ‘round aster and chrysanthemum; woodpile stacked, a heaping hill; windows closed against the chill; Burrowed turtles, misting waters, rounded prows of pregnant daughters. A Fall replete with tidal surge; a great retreat, a great emerge. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 22: 59 words, TOTAL = 3262; 56,738 remaining |
AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is a writer and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband and dogs, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her grown children and their multi-species families. Archives
January 2021
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