one small stone in a riverbed of stones; day13
On the dock of this day, 1928
Eastern horizon quickening, lightening; sea of sun rising, readying, raising the mainsail of morning; dawn’s winter wind roars like stevedores on the dock of this day. Swaying ship masts of high hill pines creak and caution, as icy hatch hinges slam and shudder; flags snap and shiver. The crew of crows comes aboard from the valley, cawing commands; all is ready before the mast, this day may get under way. Day breaks cold against my face charting a northwest course; with the western moon over my left shoulder. I turn and face into this fine adventure.
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a wonderful beginning to this day - the crows are cawing commands here also.
ReplyDeleteand yes. off into this fine adventure.
so love infusing the day with your words. Especially today.
ReplyDeleteYour book arrived in the mail yesterday and I was instantly drawn in again...as I was months ago, when the diary entries first began... in the small hours of morning when I read your words on the tiny lit screen held before my face, before drifting off to sleep.
yes, wonderful, filled with music and promise.
ReplyDeleteeach day is a fine adventure.
Michael, as always, I absolutely love this. I hope your day was full of adventure.
ReplyDeleteI am going to read this every morning for as long as winter endures. LOVE.
ReplyDelete