The air at Dawn is a good recipe.
Breathing in and out I seek clarity.
Sunlight shifts through the woods, funhouse mirrors.
When I walk among the trees I’m nearer…
Chit-chat Barn Swallows, Avian Gossips;
when they stream overhead their talk blossoms.
A Red-Tailed Hawk soared between pine “summits.”
Soon after, a second Hawk followed. “COMING!”
Slick ice on the road facilitates whit.
A ripped-up mailbox lays aside it.