dogtrax

Sweetness on the lips as we sink our teeth into August summer corn

for when the sun sets we wander always under the guise of mystery

It's nature's patterns in spirals; Fibonacci numbers, deep inside

The air, cold and crisp, belies an August's presence; Autumn elbows in

for Algot

Ink drips in forests - red shimmering among green - each leaf, soon transformed

Branches of ripe pears weighed down by ample sweetness; perfect for plucking

We wrap the bird song around us, like a soft cover of composition

Another day dips its way into horizon; a painted sunset

even a teacher a poet a photographer (an) entity of landscapes explorer father / writer collaborator / musician himself (a) dog, unknown; a songwriter

a dada cut-up poem for #ds106 Daily Create

One small drop of dew, dangling off the softened edge of a rose petal