Leaning on the porch rail in the cool predawn. Dark shapes of trees stand visible in the light of a waning moon. They cast smokey shadows across a charcoal lawn, the world yet colored in shades of grey. The air is still and hush, apparently too early for songs from birds on their perch. Slow muted cricket chirps and the distant whistle of an early train are the only sounds willing to disturb the silence. Stars twinkle bright in cloudless indigo sky, and the glow from electric city light can be seen in a low arc across the north horizon. A very early good morning to you my friends. Have a Happy Grumpy Birthday my Brother.
Posted on: Mon, 29 Jul 2013 10:13:32 +0000
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