I miss the coyotes.Her voices,muffledby the wallsthat hold the roofabove me,become clearlike spring water at its sourcewhen I step into the night.I miss the coyotes.Her joyful criesturned desperateby menwith riflesand grins.I miss the coyotes.Her predatory tension,now absent,becomes a voidin the night sky,an empty den,at-ease horses,pleasant pheasantsand reposeful rabbits.I miss the snow when it melts.I miss the floods when they recede.I miss the trees consumed by progress.I miss the coyotes.I miss the way I never used to miss things.
What do you miss? Please share your thoughts in the comments.
I miss you, Reader, Friend & Journeyer. I miss writing.
It has been almost six months (wow, that’s a long time considering I used to blog every week) since I have met you here. I think I’m ready to get back to it. Maybe not every week yet, but I’m ready to be back.
I took the time off to be with my ailing cat and horse. Both have since passed.
I look forward to a regular rendezvous with you here again. Blessings, Diane