yodel and blush,

Early morning rising, the Autumn leaf coddles the mountainside.The wild yonder is caught by the fox trotting sun. I am gladdened by the universe. to be a child here, a companion to the stars, booklets, and trees. Lumber catches fire below the brick frame. The birds are wild, we are yodeling. I am dressing warm. drips of caramel coffee cause me to gleam. Cinnamon buns are bubbling in the oven, but I've got an ache. This is life. The tongue works separate from the belly. For now, I am made alive by the bouquet of bakery scents. candles, flowers, spices, spritz of perfume. Nothing can be bottled, as bewitching, or as inviting, as the scents of the working...