Tuesday, March 5, 2019

3.14.18 No matter

Down by the farmers fields the hawks were pairing up, two by two. 
The buds on trees were growing, no matter how many northeasters sweeping through. 
So up we got and on we went, down to the stark quiet beauty of the riverside. 
Where both dogs romped and wandered and hunted, 
and our hearts filled with that which is true.

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