Leaving the office, 1:15, I pass by a town worker, putting up the snow fences ; the sun blazing through the cloud cover, some small Orange of optimism peeking through the mountains of the range.
Q: Some small Orange of optimism peeking!
A: See? What was that little touch of orange doing over there, at one in the afternoon?
Q: Wow. Gorgeous!
A: I know. So lovely.
Q: So optimistic the demons are fleeing its glow....crap are they headed west toward me?
A: Haha. I just never see orange at that time of day. Was curious.
Q: It was a small poem.
A: A small orange poem, just for a moment. Yes. T 2.7.15
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