Wine tastes best alone
on
a quiet evening, remembering;
warmed
by the rays of a setting sun,
the
sounds of dusk turning to night
resonate
in a rich, red bouquet.
Just some ramblings - a little poetry, some Creative Non-fiction, a picture of two - from Lake Hebron as I sit here on the front porch, staring across the water, listening to the loons, and enjoying the life of a retired English teacher. And please, leave me a comment, a note, tell me how much you loved -- or hated -- my writing, what it made you think of, made you feel, for it is poetry, meant to invoke in you what it is we share in common, what it is that makes us human.
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