Sun barely awake as it winks its’ eyes to the mountaintops.
Trees still dark reflecting last nights’ moon.
Clouds dispersing as the first signs of pink are in the air.
Deer drinking at mornings flowing stream
as others lazily chomp at flowering berries.
A dog barks ~ the roosters crow ~ a light flickers here and there.
All parts of morning …..
especially a quiet Sunday morn.
All Rights Reserved Vallee Rose 2016
Your poem & pic put me there, in a quiet Sunday morning…
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So glad Sandra.
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