Tangerine Tango

Finding inspiration in the colors of the summer skies

Sierra Sunset

Haiku

Tangerine tango

Slow dancing with a feathered pen

Life of a Poet

At dusk, I snuck out to the fence at the park across from my home, leaving my cats and computer to wonder why I had suddenly disappeared. My daughter, Sneaky Mandy, called—just as the summer sun faded behind the mammoth mountains. We talked for a long while, our stories stretching over the miles, overjoyed to be connected under tangerine skies, as red-tailed hawks soared overhead and a warm breeze stirred up a fuss.

Sometimes voices are messy, sometimes they’re crisp and clear, vibrating over the airwaves. Sometimes memories fade, other times they’re sharp, tinkling in a familiar melody, bigger than the sky. And sometimes little stories write themselves, slow dancing with a feathered pen—in the life of a Poet.