It’s that time of day/ year/ life.
Balanced close enough to the edge
that gravity goes pastel light
and the air breathes you in.
Yeah, that’s the stuff.
Kinda love that word, “stuff,” it broadens everything.
Anna, I find I need your perspectives more and more. They settle my soul. (And by George are my horses grateful I found you!!)
Shucks, thank you. And I might need some soul settling myself.
Grandfather Horse, I hang on your every breath. My horses thank you from 1000 and more miles away. Salute a cent’anno!
Nanina, Doctor and Frankenmare :-*
So do I. Scratches to the herd!
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