Crisp and warm,
all in the earths bundle of a
Sunday morning.
Rises like these,
I remember waking to
church frills and curled hair.
Now as adult, I sit on gravel
country road
drinking in the suns bed head growl.
The geese sound their way
through open, clear sky.
I am pine, spruce and fresh air.
I am awake.
Life Particles 