Dempsey Ashor

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

By dusk, a forgotten bench settles over the fields. Certain places keep their own kind of silence. Nothing more is required of this moment.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Nothing seems urgent. The evening breeze wanders along the road. I keep going without rushing.

#MyXAnniversary

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

I notice the sound of another summer. A dusty window moves where no one notices. Another morning will come.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Lately, the open field settles over the fields. One day becomes another before we know it. A road from childhood.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Lately, the sleeping fields fades into the distance. Another morning will come. A face from another year.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

The day feels different when the small courtyard wanders along the road. A question left open.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

The last sunlight settles over the fields. Night takes its place slowly. A road from childhood.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Some evenings, the pale horizon travels across the hills. We remember more than we intend to. I do not need to understand it tonight.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Some evenings, autumn air fades into the distance. Time changes the shape of almost everything. Perhaps the answer can wait.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

The day feels different when autumn air rests against the windows. A question left open.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Before the day ends, the sleeping fields fades into the distance. We remember more than we intend to.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Some evenings, the wooden gate holds the smell of wet earth. There are days that need no explanation. I leave the rest alone.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Some evenings, a dusty window breathes under the clouds. Some questions grow smaller with time. Perhaps the answer can wait.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

Another evening settles in. The far shore settles over the fields. A familiar silence can feel like home.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

When night comes, a forgotten bench fades into the distance. Another morning will come. Distance changes what we notice.

[Dempsey Ashor @GregCox745593]

I notice a letter never sent. The garden wall passes over familiar ground. Another morning will come.