All of the holiday lights have been coming down off the neighborhood houses leaving a cold black slate of quiet at night. The days are getting longer, but I haven’t noticed it yet. This poem about reaching old age and being thankful for the sunset shades of orange, red, and purple everywhere under the Montana sky where I live makes it all okay.
All of the holiday lights have been coming down off the neighborhood houses leaving a cold black slate of quiet at night. The days are getting longer, but I haven’t noticed it yet. This poem about reaching old age and being thankful for the sunset shades of orange, red, and purple everywhere under the Montana sky where I live makes it all okay.