A Wish

The Ink Owl

Close your eye tight and imagine you’re here,

Between sage and these stones.

You smell the baked earth and drink in the silence,

Of a place older than your grandfather’s father’s home.

Listen close to the babbling creek and dear each word,

As water runs from high mountain snow.

Wish upon the very wind and come back to this, your hearthstone.

-M.E. InkOwl

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