single mom

Poetry

The sky is the color of dying cigarette; curling slowly into dusk. Fires in the surrounding area have tinged the air with their smoke, fighting against the cool breeze of night. The mountains send a hint of the coming fall from peaks of 14,000 feet, filling my lungs with anticipation  of what’s to come.

I know its something good.

From my favorite musical of all time.

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5 thoughts on “Poetry”

  1. OMG, I have another friend who can’t get this song out of her head – for a week now she’s been posting various lyrics on FB. Too funny!

    I’ve always said that West Side Story is the quintessential American musical.

    Like

  2. You can’t deny the feeling. Thanks for the visit to yesteryear with the video clip. Some things never change. You know when change is on the horizon. Go with it, Hanna!

    Like

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