Early morning. Easter.

A fox loping across the fringe of the sky.

The sky peeling away into the lake, bit by golden bit.

Threads falling off into the water.

The fox kept running across the grass.

The sun rising.

The sky still gentle before the sun pushed back into it with golden forks.

The fox ran into winter.

The sun rising.

The fox disappeared into winter.

Early morning.

Then I said goodbye to Cathy.

I climbed the stairs to the plane.

A special room in the sky.

I flew home.

Late afternoon.

Published in: on March 27, 2016 at 8:53 pm  Leave a Comment  

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