My pagan sunrise hangs over the black ridge
reaching for the saddle this side of Sulphur
Peak with blinding light, this native place
where women healed themselves—to endure
this longest day of hundred degree heat.
Each day shorter, we move with confidence
towards October, imagine gusts beneath
dark clouds that bring the storm gods closer
to bless this dry and dusty dirt with rain.
drycrikjournal 
Dawn & Dusk: the two most beautiful times of the day, wherever . . . An old man would gladly trade all the hours in between for a second shot at one of those sunrises . . .
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Happy Fathers Day John. I wish you and all fathers, rain in adequate amounts and loved ones to enjoy it with.
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