Night/In the Country (7/17/2007)

The fog approaches. The clouds are severed. The sky turns to a sheer pink. Lights beam through the windows on some of the houses that have weathered.

Ah' the sound of country; I hear birds from my right ear, yet trucks and cars passing through St.Rd.39 on my left.

A great picture it would be as the sky comes to the realization of night! For just one second everything is silenced, while I have the company of a firefly.

The smell of the air is humid and blurred, yet the feeling of stillness is heavenly and relaxing.

I listen, I watch the horse pondering around the field. An old, wooden fence surrounds his large territory, rain pours; not unders its own will.

Yes, it's the time for evening. As I look back up from the pages I am writing on, it dawns on me that the sky is faultering to a gray.

Lights are still seen; the rain lingers as the night begins. Why am I so suprised? Why, even the trees know it will happen again.