prose

Its more like a gentle passing of time, for it was the night, when the crickets 
chirps and the sounds of the evening filled the sky

Stars, stars, stars under the auspecies of ...Of Percedes that walked us to the 
lake at 130 and again at 430p
Where we shared shooting stars on the calm reflection of the water.....

I take the coffee beans, and grind then, pour them into a press, the whistle of 
the kettle  calls  me back from the chicken coop, I press the water into a glass 
jar,
Stir up some brown sugar and both hands are warmed ......

a blessed morning in simplicity

--k