I live in Florida where the unusual happens daily. Although sometimes, I forget this central fact. Nature, however, loves to remind me.




Life was meant for sauntering,

face to the light, the breeze a comfort.

There was no room for loud noises.

No place for any but self and sun.

All felt heavy, blood slow as molasses.

But what could be expected? Life has

its demands. Every thing gives

way to it: the snake pregnant

with waiting, the walkers stilled

midwalk at the snake on the path.


Curious to see more of my writing?  Visit me – Brenda Joyce Patterson – on Facebook, Twitter, and my website.

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