and the sky sits low,
crawling just above the ground...
gray and damp,
wheezing like an old dog
curled on his muddy backdoor rug....
And yet, it's delightful. Something about it is Old Soul. Comfortable. Familiar.
The Blue skies of tomorrow are being painted in a secret room above the clouds, and the wild winds of yesterday are parked in the corner....hung over from their willful misbehaviour last night.
Today is Peace.
I park my crickety old self on the park bench and sip coffee in the quiet just outside my door. I breathe better here....
Under the simple skies....
Words and artwork (c) Singleton 2013 Coffee table courtesty of Merle, green and splattered in machine oil.... just waiting for me to tattoo the spirit of the river smack on it's ruddy surface:) Thank you, new friend!
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