okay, Robin, you know you got me.  i was in a spring comma wet w/ morning dew dripping from blades of grass & pedals of brilliant flowers of color - listening to the organic sounds of steel guitars, lap steels - vintage guitars & basses - alive and feeding my soul w/ rich words creating soft powerful images tickling the back of mind like an easy plateau where the cold don't come and the wind don't blow - someplace to hang my head - at least for a little while -

 

yet, you're engaging aura comes through the t.v. and tells me not to go back to bed - and then w/ eyes open and a little smile i'm seeing you and there's your high cherokee check bones and those alabaster parts of your eyes meeting and showcasing a secret smoky colored pupils and that draws me in and compels me to say the sun is out now in this part of the ohio valley - a place where we know rain that's like Tennessee honey heavily weighing down bluebirds but there ain't a bluebird to heavy to sing good morning my sweet world

 

thanks for being there