Dear Diary

The best part of coming back home from the cabin, is the scenery that awaits our return.

It looks like a portrait,
with the sun descending in the west
and fields of golden grass bowing to its guest

The brown hills stand tall before us
With deep trenches engraved
And black cows scattered around to graze

I roll down my window
The air greets my finger tips
The breeze blows a tickle upon my lips

The cloud above is faint
Streaks of white lightly drape
Water drops dreamy, as the sky turns the color of dark grape

The moon alights the road
The stars that were hiding
Open their glow as a path of guiding

The howl of a lone wolf,
Sparks the owls hoo
The crickets then chime in to say adieu

The husky smell of night lingers
As we pass over the final hill
My surroundings become hushed and soon still

TaintedSun TaintedSun
18-21, F
Sep 24, 2012