And I awake in the early morning hours to the sounds of my farm.
The sound of kitten purrs, the furnace kicking in, a late traveler on the road outside & quiet.
Work took me away to the inside of a city, a sad hotel room, tables & chairs and meetings.
And now I am home. If I could purr, I would.
My little shelf I like to call
"Ode to my farm"...an alter of sorts.
