Warm your hands by the campfire,
see the fireflies fly here,
into the grass.
At the falling of the evening,
I let my lips discover,
also my tongue and nasal cavaties
in the bunches of grapes from the vineyard,
The aroma, yes for my soul it’s so relieving..
Isn’t it perfect,
the red colored dawn,
as a new born day
sculpted out of the womb..
This situation looks like a Ray LaMontagne song,
In describing the nature…