watching the sunset

 

I forget the time and linger here instead
beneath the many fingered willow leaves
My bare feet brush the wild grown mint that bends
a white spiced hunger to the drift of wind
I hesitate to leave my many chores
but soft as slipknots find I do it well
Who would not leave monotony to enjoy
the solemn sunset's perch upon the hills
The scarlet apple tint subdued to glows
to weave a passion on the cattle fields
revealing small stick figures in a graze
So late I linger that I find the sky
has swallowed up the scarlet in goodbyes
Long are the hills that wander out of sight -
their shadows longer still in purpled dark

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

When pastoral is done well, there's little else that reads so well...and this does.

[deeps]

This is so lovely and wonderful.
Enjoyable.

[Emily B]

it is always good to find the hills again . . . your words draw them so perfectly

[Ed Hart]

i hear an early Frost echoing through the leaves

[Chris]

You have a way of meandering into... me's - and I find the senses appreciate the views.

Take care,
Chris