Dear Jessie,
As the moon lingers a moment over the Bitterroot's,
before its descent into the invisible, my mind is filled with song.
I find I am humming, softly,
not to the music, but to something else, some place else.
A place remembered.
A field of grass where no one seemed to have been,
except the deer,
and the memory is strengthened by the feeling of you,
dancing in my awkward arms.
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that is so beautiful
Thank you!!
I think so, too.
I’m an expert stealer of other people’s amazing work:)
Lis
well, it still is beautiful… so keep up the good work
Thank you so much*:))