Fire red morning
Fire tipped mountain
rising into a startling blue sky
crisp air
nipping my fingers
the morning breeze
stroking my face
mares, nibbling on my fingers
looking for one last trace of molasses
after packer pellet ecstacy
the magic of trees
mysteriously turning
overnight
into wildly colored wonders
the sun kissing the sky
and light clouds
drifting
a mystery
perhaps angels in flight
it is time
to celebrate the madness,
the joy,
of seeing God
everywhere!
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