I always take farewell pictures as we head out of town.
This was October 28, 2014.
I did not write the poem below, but only wish I had written it.
Summer pushes the scent out of the pines and soon, I find
myself stumbling along the trail. At a creek I veer off the trail
and uphill until I lie down on a great granite face. I wake up
to the whooshing of a warm breeze through ferns. Nearby a
coyote grooms himself, but we haven't seen each other yet.
John Brantingham (Born circa 1970)
The Green of Sunset. Moon Tide Press, 2014.
Kindle location 442.
This book is presented as
a series of paragraphs like this one.
Brantingham calls them poems
and each one is complete in itself.
Each paragraph begins with a
fancy capital letter on the first word.
They make wonderfully tranquil short sips of reading.
Now your task is to write some of your own, based on your life and the things around you.
Try to keep it short and simple, yet clearly written.