9/12/22
I wake to the red sun
The light shining through my bedroom window
Burnt orange
It fills the world with a strange hue
The world, dark and gloomy
I go to work in the garden
The air is heavy and leaves me coughing
The smell of smoke is strong, overwhelming my senses
Ash falls delicately through the air
Catching in my hair and leaving a layer across the land
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Collected
PuisiA collection of poems written in my journal, and selected to be put here. The musings of a farmer and his life.
