Like an urchin guarding, it feels warming,
in the tramped-down field niche,
sitting, hidden, waiting, noticing,
the harvest ripening sun.
Small fiery salamander sneaks,
visits with hungry intentions slipping out from forked tongue
Baking, ripe yellow-golden grass field flowing,
swaying with wind-tossed intentions,
Imminent, absorbed sun,
caresses beings with bright kisses, beneath
it's all encompassing, saturated, luminous, heat.
Writing by Regina Stemberger
Photo by horizontal.integration