Saturday, 15 August 2009

Stopping to breathe in August

Sun washes the house clean.
Great swathes of white wall appear, great patches of hot green. The evenings cool rapidly, and it is too dewy to walk bare feet, but the moss and clover are springy and tempting.
One lone yellow rose, reminiscent of July, and in the falling leaves - autumn. September on the air.
The willow has been trimmed, the winter lantern lit.
In this moment, everything.
Happiness, is this.
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