I sit on the ground under the apple tree, the old sheep skin between me and the dewy grass.
The mountains are hidden in mist
that shifts
revealing slivers of them.
I pretend the glimpses of mountain are
long, dark clouds,
floating over the tree tops.
Slowly
my clouds
become mountains
again.
Sometimes you just need to stop,stare and graze. Just Kim and a view finding peace.
Indeed Loraine!