No. 205 - Winter in Fredericksburg, TX

The wind is crisp,     

        tickling my skin         

              in quiet waves.

I swallow deep breaths     

        of sage         

              and yellow grass.

A choir of Hill Country birds     

        fills the ranch.

Stars ripple     

        across a turquoise pond.

My bare feet warm     

        in the rising light.

Behind me,     

        a windmill turns.

Groves of oaks     

        wake in the breeze.

My mind naps.

        I smell winter        

             in Texas.

*Composed, Edited, and Published at Whatley Wines in Fredericksburg, TX