Thy morning hours

Photo by Teri Lain

Like the true recluse, I enjoy the morning in its darkest hours, seeing, smelling and tasting what blissful miracles it has to offer.

Like the polite, well-mannered gentlewoman, I do nothing during those night morning hours, in fear of waking and offending those who sleep walk.

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Road Life

I was walking along the road when I came across you sprawled across the yellow line, looking up to the sky.

Your words exactly: “I feel so close to God right now, it isn’t even funny.”

My response: “Just wait ’til a car comes, then you’ll get to meet him.”