Cabins

December 11, 2008
By
More by this author
The sunlight filters through the aspens
Like the pan of a gold digger,
Leaving only the purest, the brightest,
To shine through.
Behind
The mountains stand like beautiful giants
As the sun warms my face and caresses my skin,
And the river gently hums its serene song.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback