Helping Turtles Across the Road


So few are my misguided thoughts on religion…whilst in the arms of a golden, August day.

I could walk forever into the unknown…bathing in the silver lining of a sunflower’s intoxicating…glow.

I could even dare all tomorrow’s…in the deep, stare of a steer’s gaze.

Now and always, deep in the musky, wild…sorrow weakens.

Worry becomes less bold.

I understand all that is not mine….because the stillness of humid air tells me so.

Crab Apple perfumes my mind…

I live to let go.

All this and so much more…

helping snappers across Morrill road…

Is the only religion I need to know.

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