04/09/2025
I live in the deeper woods, Sabine Frontier, not as Hemingway or Faulkner, still it is where squirrels run and jump from tree to tree, and a spring robin sings of its morning joy as I sit in the straight-back chair upon my open porch. ...The distance is the sound of a neighbor's dog, as the morning sun filters through the tall majestic pines, is he calling for my dogs to come to the road edge, as surely at this time of the morning, he is not warning of a panther that walks through these woods..... He does sing at times in the night, as suspicion that it is to a wayfaring panther, prancing through the darkness and dense of these woods.. Coffee is consumed, and liberated from the sleep that held me captive these past 7 hours..