In the mornings when the robins sing, protesting the cold
I think of our adventures, the smell of the air
did it rain last night or is that just dew?
as we bury our chins in our jackets, fortified
with the smell of coffee lingering,
and the sound of our boots on the trails
holding hands. Your lavender is strong
as bees buzz our heads seeking
their next meal. I draw you close
whispering, my love to you.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“When we love people, we give them hope.”