like a painting

Like a painting

Is anything more beautiful than an early morning
in Cheshire, I walked along alone it was like being
in the middle of a painting dripping leaves and 
dew on the grass.
A lone horse came to the fence I stroked it. Then
it went back grazing again no longer alone.
On the other side of the field a gate opened., a flock
of sheep came, company good enough for the horse
I was free to go.

◄ lack of women

sunday morning ►


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