morning crickets,
and fresh nectarines.
it is 74 degrees, cloudless.
the last of the cicada shells
clings upside down,
way-showing,
empty.
remnants of pumpkins past
bloom forth.
small planes,
circling low and early,
chortle and sputter across the blue.
it is sunday.
all is clear,
inside and out.
my heart and the sky.
wide open,
lit,
all possibilities aloft,
ready to begin.
yes. I LOVE those last lines. It sounds like we are both ready.
ReplyDeletea beautiful sunday morning. the last of the cicada shells. i found one on the back porch yesterday morning and only then realized i wasn't hearing them anymore. only crickets and screech owls now.
ReplyDeletewide open. i am with you.
xoxo
Debi