We moved from a bustling
city of rot, North to pasture.
Too much tragedy in the city.
I can remember the day
my wife and I were crouched
down in our living room
as a crazed gunman
ran through our neighbor-
hood. Terror and strange
times often threatened us.
Moving to a quieter
place was a necessary
delight, like finding the
perfect safe spot
to hide away from
the world.
We found a pleasant place
surrounded on two sides
by farm fields.
Across the street
from an actual farm–
one replete with sheep,
horses, highland cows,
and a donkey, who brashly
brays like an audience
behind my waiting wife.
In the fall, we can see
deer out in the fields,
silhouetted against trees.
Eating away at harvest
leftovers after the combines
and tractors have eaten, too.
Some days, we see stranger
animals come out of the ditch–
opossums, snakes, and moles.
We are also fortunate enough
to have a variety of birds that
call to us from the trees;
my wife is more familiar with
these. Bluebirds and cardinals
fluttering away to their
own homes high in the trees
looking down at our
pastoral reflection.
Miss Injairu
This is so beautiful. Wholesome ♥️