Jun 25

Summer Stars

Darkness coats the grass like
A fresh layer of paint.

Wind speeds through the evening
Lazily resting its head on the fresh grass.

Spreading through the world is a feeling of contentment,
Lazy softness like the scent of baked potatoes.

Somewhere, an owl hoots.
And there’s a rustle as if everyone and everything is settling down for the night.

The stars, sprinkled across the sky,
Glint for a few moments like a flashlight has been blinked on the universe.

The night smells like wood smoke and a warm breeze and
Stardust.
About the Author: NiñaEstrella
“If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.” ― Oscar Wilde
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