Thursday, May 27, 2010
salt and lavender
Woke this morning before the blackbird sang to walk by the sea no soul in sight just the wet on the grass and clouds pressing close. Summer shifts the winds and blows salt through my hair, so happy to be free she flirts and teases and weeps for joy. My hair curls in the damp, tossed and tumbled and blown awry, I must find a hat before the sun comes back.