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A Place to Rest

Published on October 26, 2015, by in Poetry.

River bank

The colors and the landscape call to me.

From a distance the forest is not so foreboding; I know I am painfully naive.

The rush of water to the shore, the leaves as they brush the ground,  all waiting for my footsteps.

It is the tranquility of this setting that makes you remember different times, different places, different faces.

The sounds, or is it the lack of sound, I can hear my every breath.

How can you not get caught-up in what you see?

It is a picture that repeats time and again, but do we see it now for the first time?

Or is it the images that flash through our minds that make this so special?

They say it’s never too late…so glad to have lived this.

Where will the tomorrow be?  Who knows?  Many guess, but none really know.

I know where it and I will be:  here,  remembering all the things I should


Photographs by Susie Witt Will,  SEW Focused

Tommy Emmanuel It’s Never Too Late