Where the author shamelessly plugs his Poetry.
Morning’s Choir – Nathan Harrell
Dawn comes slowly, stumbling in like a shoeless wino. I sit by a quiet fire, made quieter by the soft misty fog settling in like a whisper around me. I can hear my oldest son snoring in our tent nearby, his heavy breathing is mixed with the sweet trill of the warblers and the morning chorus that surrounds us. Life is rarely made up of moments that feel made specifically for your happiness, so I will sit here staring at the muted fire, drink my coffee, and thank the trees for their knowledge.
Originally published 7/15/2019 at www.streetlightpress.org