This Sentence Is Not About A Bench

Early Sunday morning at the dog park, behind the bench, in the shadow of the bench, there was a white bench-shaped outline of rime-frost on the dark soil . . . the sun had melted the frost everywhere else, except within the shadow of the bench; forty-six years on this planet, and this was the most beautiful (and first) bench-shaped rime-frost outline I had ever seen.

3 comments:

Clarence said...

Happy Birthday, LeckDog

Lecky said...

Shout out from Whitney, thank you brother. I do the like the idea of messaging via SoD, it diminishes Dave's life work to MetroPCS status

Dave said...

happy birthday! yikes, weare old.

i'm glad my blog serves some purpose, it's much more intimate than facebook

A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.