Monday, August 26, 2019

There are two gaps in my backyard fence.  Cats visit my yard.  No dogs here to bother them.

The oak trees look dead.  Oak moths continue to fall on us if we walk by.

I walk in the dark house before dawn.  With the house lights off I can see the thick fog outside. Turning on the indoor lights, the windows become dark holes.

The latest issue of Poets and Writers is here. I read the articles slowly and am rewarded with names of new authors to read.