The sky is blooming with sun-bleached sapphire
Burnt tallgrass sways with the sigh of the wind
Whistling and stillness
The trees stand watch
For something that never comes
Sun rays fall heavily upon the hills
As the orb continues its slow descent
Below the grass
Heaven turns orange
The breeze chills
Making me walk away slowly
to the whiskey on the porch
and the rest at the end of the day


One thought on “Respite

  1. A person has to have worked hard in a field and felt that parched stillness and the chill when the sun goes down and the breeze makes the sweat chill you on the way to the house. You are writing about something you understand. And it is good.

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