The morning started with the yellowish taupey grey skies of a moving storm of clouds that washed the earth in sprinkling rain throughout the night to flashing lights and loud applause. Left behind were wisps of creamy gossamer that even morning sun could not erase but blended it as tulle atop a fine lady’s ballgown of brilliant blue.
Late morning now, and all that is alive is singing in the sunbright light as if the heat bubbled and darkened earth to coffee brown, and leaves and lawn to delicate but heady liquor like the syrupy Chartreuse.
But I am not in tune with all the forward thrust of day that goes before, around and through me, and today I must wear black to blend with ashes in the night.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Beautiful and sad…. I wish a comforting hug to you! I *sigh*!
meant to drop in earlier.
have missed alot. i love this one. it is so solemn. i hope all is well with you.
sending good wishes.