The light of colors muted, textures bold . . .
Sometime in the night the wind with rain and leaves
did decorate the cornice of a roof
and peeling paint exposes layers of lives
and love each molding made
by the hands of man.
Each tree seeded from above
the conscious fabric of
our passion, our search
now seen through
this morning window frame.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Morning Window Frame
Reviewing my journal written the last time here in August. On vacation now, a few days more, with daughter and family. I read and edit.