The sky’s last vermillion, setting, dissolves
the dusk into darkness, and nighttime’s
silence echoes the loons’ late calling, low
and mournful across the lake; among the trees,
an owl hoots out its greeting to the night.
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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