no wind, no rain
up on lookout mountain—
looking out
*
here and there
breathing in the morning air—
the birds and i
Rain in the forecast, but for the time being savoring the view, the birds and I.
There was a time for many years I lived up high. The windows were always open. I never tired of looking out, peering down over tops of trees, looking at people and cars passing by, at birds flying free, watching the sun rising up in the mornings, listening to children in the playground below. The music of life all around. I felt far away and yet right in the middle of it all.
