One of a firepit, another a grotto

A low, dim mist leaks from between hills like the Milky Way erupted

From deep below

The earth was warm and its emerald undertone became glossy beneath the ice

And ochre paint of daffodils smears with browned frost

The home itself is but a disorganized cabin

With its heavy vines sewn throughout pine beams

And all the world is quiet but fo...

Read and leave comments (0)