I saw a photo today
Of Mountains, dark in blues and blacks,
Edged and capped with streaming wisps of white clouds
Palms in the foreground
Dark silhouettes against the light.
It was beautiful.
I see images every day
Of beautiful places I may never visit.
Moments held by other souls,
I’ll share too.
I live among fields.
Changing through time and season.
Bordered by dark trees
That edge into quiet woods.
I live among old farmhouses
Falling into their age,
Crumbling old gas stations
On roads untraveled now,
And black rivers winding their slow way
Past deer and possum and wren
To the lowland coast.
I live among flat salt marshes
Of thick black pluff mud,
Beaches edged with sweet grass and black gum trees,
Dogwood and saw palmetto,
And sculptures of driftwood, shaped by sun and wave.
These are the pictures of my life,
Drenched in the past and the present,
Sprung from the deep soil that birthed my bones.
I hope you can see them.