Morning lights with the dawn. The blanket of night slivered with rays.
Aroma bounces in the nostrils, almost tasted. Buttered toast married with jam and dunked.
The windows lighten up with morning blue. Time to roll out and ride the road.
The wetland beckons with pathways passing underfoot, and swans gliding onto the yearly waves.
Watch from the huts in reverie.
Atop the lookout, watch the other invasive species as their wheels press the roads passing through.
It\'s called Cheyenne Bottoms. A spiritual home away from home.