Tennessee Waltz

Southern living teases one into believing spring has arrived.

Handing out random seventy-degree days here and there, even in February. But it is not true. Don't plant your flowers, yet.

For I sit atop faded wicker with these early morning moments, wrapped in memory of yesterday's liquid gold upon my face. Winters gift of hope.

Two blocks away the city awakens as if she knows Sunday Mornins' Comin' Down. Silencing her noise like a hand covering breath.

It's just enough quiet to hear the rainfall rolling over this century old covered porch, holding onto stories I'll never know.

Closing my eyes to the water's rhythm, my heart beats in time like a beautiful Tennessee Waltz.

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed my last book "If I Saw You on Sunday" which was a fundraiser for a school in Mexico, I am currently working towards another book of my collective writings and have joined Vocal to help with the cost.

If you enjoyed the story enough to feel like adding to the "Tip" jar for my next endeavor, thank you & know I am ever grateful!

If you are here just simply enjoying a read, I am ever grateful for the support.

Please feel free to sign up for notifications on any new stories with your email. Safe & free!

Salud!