ilike

ilike: the burgundy silk tassels on ripened corn clinging to the stalk, the perfume of fresh cut hay laying in fluffy rows, cows with full udders meandering home to the barn for relief, lambs playing king of the mountain, the pungent scent of silage, salmon pink sunsets hovering over the Sound, a throbbing motorcycle seat to straddle, warm wind gliding over me, barns with stately cupolas, fresh picked sun ripened blackberries with a dollop of heavy cream and a hint of sugar, a hug that folds me inside out/outside in and back again, a bath hot enough to melt the sticky layer of sadness away.

ilike tonight. ilike exploring country roads. ilike invited. ilike loverby.