like a deep cycle battery.
fading predictably, unwinding like a rubberband powered airplane.
the mountains are blushing in anticipation of the snow,
the brush is turning red.
i enjoy the air in the evening,
flannel covering my arms.
i miss home this fall. this is my first fall in the west.
and i miss soccer games in the evening. frigid bleachers.
but the mountains are good to me. and utah.
i enjoy every minute i get to spend exploring their heights and valleys.
and if i can continue without committing to a monotone life of 40hr weeks,
then i will.
make ends meet by serving. teaching people about rivers and fish.
singing, writing, and dreaming for the future.
No comments:
Post a Comment