The poets--Jo(e), FireAnt and BusyLifeAlsoWrites picnicked beneath tall pines weaving the roots and leaves of their lives together. They always promise to meet once each summer, fall, winter, spring at this place where the water tumbles loudly down steep rock steps, where the trails wind gently through stone and moss. where the quiet of woods harbors their word dreams. They've managed three dates, but have yet to make all four seasons. Call to Fall--pencils, paper, potato salad?
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Some life doesn't need much to live well
The poets--Jo(e), FireAnt and BusyLifeAlsoWrites picnicked beneath tall pines weaving the roots and leaves of their lives together. They always promise to meet once each summer, fall, winter, spring at this place where the water tumbles loudly down steep rock steps, where the trails wind gently through stone and moss. where the quiet of woods harbors their word dreams. They've managed three dates, but have yet to make all four seasons. Call to Fall--pencils, paper, potato salad?
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2 comments:
Fall will be late fall this year. November. Probably want something hot for lunch too. Soup. Tea. Apple Brown Betty.
T.
Indeed! Ginger carrot soup, Apple Brown Betty for sure!
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