the tan of my sandals, deep and stark
my dry skin, aged hands
the hazy blues of the darkening sky and darkening mount moran
the feeling of my heart in a hammock — a gentle breeze rocking, holding, comforting me
the way all the lodgepole pine, typically 3D and full of greens and browns, now becomes just a 2D silhouette against a sky swirled with hazy oranges and blues
my dear children, the look of their faces and bodies fast asleep, given over to the trance of exhaustion
the honking of a far-off goose. swan? loon?
my end-of-day longings and hopes for another day: more patience, more attention, more affirmation that I may be equipped to give.