Tuesday, July 14, 2009


Early, early, the dew forming drops to tease parched earth.

Sleepy stars fading into their day beds, there to dream dreams of coal black nights and super-novas.

Little critters on the prowl, safe for the moment in this magic hour.

Tattered clouds, dripping red fingers, point to the new day while one lone bird sings to no one but me.

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