|Sugar Maple Budding, Digital photo 2005|
A poem belongs to this photograph that I have yet to write. The lines will include the twelve years that have passed since the picture was taken, and nearly ten since it was first posted. Older, achier, slower I may be, but there's always the overwhelming moments when Nature can make those woes fade. Writing poetry creates another dimension where the soul, familiar with the surroundings, feels at home.
What fades your woes?