They lay here now, all shapes and sizes, jagged and torn, beaten down. I hand them to the one that makes repairs. Evening displays the Creators artistry, light from fleeting sun rays handing off to moon beams to display a perfect sky. Yellow, orange, red, purple just before dark. Trees now just silhouettes stilled beside the lapping lake.
Snowy mountains make glamorous the background of the ending day.
A small fire crackles outside the cabin. In the distance a coyote howls to assemble the pack. Old Rex raises an ear then settles, He'll not be roaming tonight. Fiddle in hand his master begins to play songs about the country and a wife now passed. Nature settles to night blinking weary eyes to sleep as stars gaze downward in clusters of white.