Slovenia salt marsh

 

The cockerel, like God, orders a brand new dawn.

As the stars drop their shine, the distant mountains take their glow.

Darkness fades. And blue shines through.

And the saltwater marshes twinkle.

 

The Milky Way’s curtain as it draws back over,

Mirrors the water, rippling with every little tread.

The trees breathe the light in, have breakfast through their leaves.

I munch on an acorn.