Sun spots splattered through the tree leaves, gardening the forest floor with angelic afternoon light. Beauty overtook me and I sank to me knees, my hands falling to the browned pine needles on the ground. My dog thought nothing of the scene, for she had found a stick. But I knew, this wasn't just beauty, this was magic. Pure magic.
YOU ARE READING
wanderings
PoetryI tried to describe the world around me normaly, but it turned into poetry.
