lately, i am drawn to the supple, smooth color of alabaster, cream and ivory
i see, smell, touch and sense them
in the scent of pumpkin, the smell of moist life, the aroma of soil, sod, loam
in the calm of smooth, creamy java with daintily sugared cookies,
crisp, fresh sheets and vegetable that impersonates pasta
in the vast fields of yield waving in sallow, in curious stone – holed but whole
and God’s magnificent designs that silently flourish on decay
in the siding on my home, where colorful life clings,
in memories of summer, life broken – but carapace still stunning,
and in tiny toadstools pushing out of firm, rigid timber.
from whence comes the strength for such a tender, fragile life?