This is not a march.

This is a dance…
the cadence between seconds

The trees, like ballerinas
rooted in divine pirouettes
~~~limbs swaying
~~~trunks fashioned and reshaped
through Seasons of ballets.

Ewes in pastures
birth lambs
~~~playfully squealing
they run to mama’s side
for a splash of milk.

Highland cows,
gentle Giants,
display their lengthy horns,
flowing red locks,
BIG eyelashes.

The cadence is ALIVE…

Time to sway.

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