Geese-song in the sun behind me. Blood-rose riding the living air. Squirrel-alarm, upside down, from the neighbor’s tree.
Something roars in the distance. A long-held note. Too steady to be natural. Only Man makes things so static.
I ebb. I crescendo. I blaze like our wintering garden.
Please, let me be waking up.
SandySue Altered
