For the first time since corona, Chris and I ventured out for a weekend getaway, staying at an Air BnB cottage on a hillside near Bedford, VA. She surprised me Sunday morning with Father’s Day gifts that included a watercolor set and Gary Snyder’s zen poetry collection Danger on Peaks. Which, over coffee, led to this:
On the ridge a neighbor tests his semi-automatic:
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!
Funny how it’s then you notice quiet a blank sheet seepingly watercolored by a distant rooster’s crowing a mourning dove’s wooden flute reply and far down on the valley floor the trailing hoot of a train.
Silent as a shadow a skink with a brilliant blue tail edges onto the deck:
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!
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