A Carolina Day

The sun limps languidly onto its journeys end.

The fields of sweet grass wave ever so gently with the wind.

Mourning doves gather and coo until the coming night chases them away.

Endless are these open glorious fields on this special Carolina day.

Musty smells of the nearby wood creep out with the setting sun.

Six small deer emerge to graze of the grass; and to play and run.

I kneel beside a small tree and trace wispy pink clouds with a finger.

I am thankful for all things as the soft smell of Leah on my shirt still lingers.

The sun blinks goodbye and the wind falls to the evening’s soft hush.

Sleeping now are the giants that by day stir emotions crazy rush.

And still I kneel; the stars now wink and I in the Carolina silence pray.

J. Allen Wilson © 6/2008