Sunrise, noon and sunset all watched from my grandma's farm house porch swing. Swapped gossip about the West Virginia family and canning recipes, admired the sunburst skin of a hillbilly tomato and savored the way in which the breeze swept through the silences.
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this is lovely.
ReplyDeleteAnd the sun will rise. And the water will rise in the creek, as water will, as water always rises to a prayer, whether for good or ill.
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