Down by the farmer's fields, the cold air
whips about, as small groups of Sparrows flit through the underbrush, and the
sun glistens off all things.
There, I walk along the frozen dirt road, and
throw a tennis ball far and wide, as the pup happily chases it, skidding and
swinging about and scrabbling on the hard uneven terrain.
Overhead, I watch one bird approach, enormous with long powerful wings, passing
through the tree tops, round the river, and finally, overhead.
And yes, there is the valiant white head and the tail feathers and the imperial
gaze, as the Eagle flies by, only to alight upon a treetop, and look out all
about us, for the errant mouse that may be taking a chance above ground, or
other meal candidates.
Dante push pushes the ball into my hand, to pull me back to the business , of
course, of the dog walk, and the stretching his big big muscles and the
beautiful cloud spattered azure sky, as we find ourselves everywhere at home.
No comments:
Post a Comment