Slumber trees

Sunlit fingertips trace your cheekbones, my cheekbones.

Your eyes glow, grey-green with little specks of bright blue, like stars in a tree-filled sky.

Branch arms reach around you, the sun warms your hair, sets it alight like the kindling among the ashes.

We sleep, and watch the bears go by in our dreams, eating the berries that are gone when we wake up.

Barefoot pine needles tinkle on our dusty feet.

I run and you run, cold air and warm air in each side of my lungs,

the difference makes tornadoes, you know.

My soft colored jacket doesn't fit.

So I'll sleep in the blueberry growin' fields and eat until I'm sleepy.

Then I won't be cold.

And if you look really close, you might find ants on my tipsy-toes.

I walked on their little ant houses, and they were all asleep.  But they had full cupboards, they borrowed honey from the bees.

Apple Hill

Up the mountain,
where the sky is free
to entertain cotton-candy clouds
all day.
I want to stay.

 On Saturday Photo Club had a meet-up at Apple Hill.  Only three photo club kids showed up, one brought friends, so we ended up splitting into two groups and going around Apple Hill that-a-way. 

 Pony rides! 

 I fed an alpaca that was by this little dude.

 Tractors are the best.

 When we were driving around looking at all the pretty trees I made Mom stop so I could get out and take pictures.