This is exquisite, Teresa. The elevation, cawing crow, typewriter played fortissimo --young summer-- all go together.
Thank you so much, Geo. I've always wanted to spend a summer in a lookout ... hope springs eternal ... :)
Ah, you've touched on my dreams of summer!There are now several fire lookouts in this area that can be rented...
I, too, am keeping that firmly in mind ... ... dreams die hard ... :)
Good morning, Teresa. Love the sounds in the poem. Are you still in Minnesota? We are in Mazatlán for the month of January. Very warm here!
Thank you, Kate. I am still in Minn. Mazatlan sounds fun .... I'm glad you're some place warm. :)
Searching, searching..Lookouts were tailor made for writers..A great poem, Teresa, as always :)
Yes, it seems so ... Thank you so much, Ray. :)
Doesn't look too desolate to me, T. I could live there.....
It was Jack's lookout .... summer of '56 .... wish it could be mine for one summer ... :)
Your gaze was indeed far and wide; the hearing conquered by the crow; in the moment between each hit of the keys on typewriter, lies the stillness of the summer yearned for. Typewriter and not computer...that conveys a lot of things. A time stolen by past, yet it sneaks in through many things!! Beautiful my friend. I do not know much about Desolation Peak, but I can associate your words with one in my place.
Thank you so much for this beautiful comment. I'm very grateful that you always see so much ... that you understand. It's deeply appreciated.
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