What I Want To Tell You

I want to tell you about lying in the shade against the limestone cliffs.

I want to tell you about walking along paths in the dark woods.

I want to tell you about swimming in the cold, blue-green water of the creek.

I want to tell you about the afternoon sun lighting up the compost pile.

I want to tell you about the pink sky in the west.

I want to tell you about the silhouette of the Monterey Oak as the western sky turned black.

I want to tell you about the smile she had on her face today.

I want to tell you about these things, but I don't think my words would do the things justice.

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