Beneath lucid skies, the sun departs
Leaving sweet colors stretched over head.
Joy for eyes.
Geese are calling to each other and the grackle
Sound of a neighbor's old tractor drifts
Across the fields.
Beyond the fineness that my retinas record,
My soul is fed. Not as with you but enough
To get by.
Epstein's Zoological Exposition
9 years ago
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