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 the turquoise pond.

My bare feet warm in the rising light.
Behind me, the 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