My Porch

Nothing like sitting on my porch –
bent-wood rocker,
pile of firewood,
birds scolding overhead,
sun highlighting neon green maple leaves
and a salt-scented breeze
tossing them up and down.

Ravens call their young
in the distance
and I’m tempted to answer,
“Caw,caw, caw,
here I am
on my porch.”

©2014 Sharron R. McMillan

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