My mind follows the sun
from my small place, when day's begun.
Before the light, a prayer's said
to be grateful for what I'm fed.
The work grows, but my mind follows
the sun from East to West. The wind billows
my loose garments. My face-
to-the-sky, my heart-race,
runs and toes-spread-in-the-ground;
I take root,what home is found!
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| Day 216 8x10 oils art by: Valerie Dowdy @ www.valeriedowdy.com |
