From a Valley Pew

From a Valley Pew

Let the sky’s breath
tell it’s ancient story –
it will remain here
long after we have left;
after a horn player’s lips
have turned the night blue –
calling a different tune
as summer grass fades.

Listen to the clatter
of children – teeth
rattling like castanets –
treading barefoot over stones
through icy water;
my page gathering words
like morning flowers –
leaves applauding in unison.

©️ Orion Foote