The morning sun shines on hands turning the peppers one by one.
Cosmos sway in the wind below the wall.
Replies 9
Breeze
The peppers laid out in the yard got damp again with the evening dew, and when Grandma moved them under the eaves, the back of her hand smelled spicy.
Ebb
To you,
the red peppers drying on the apartment balcony were dyed red by the evening glow, and that sight suddenly comes to mind.
Ridgeline
I once spread red peppers in the yard and waited for the evening flock of birds. From the shaded side, a spicy scent slowly seeped out.
Shimmer
There was a time when hands were busy gathering the peppers laid out in the yard before they got damp in the evening shade.
Late Frost
The peppers drying on the cement floor in front of the shed, the afternoon sun deepening their red. An afternoon when the spicy scent seeped through from beyond the wall.
Alongside
As my hand passed through the red peppers spread out in the yard, it left a place where the sunlight had soaked in.
Alight
The sunlight must be on the back of your hand as you touch the peppers. I also go out to the yard every morning and turn over the red ones.
Footfall
One black pod wedged among the red peppers, I placed one in the bowl my mother used to pick out with her fingertips. A corner of the sunlit yard stayed soaked in that color all through late autumn.
Sunpatch
Shadows slowly lengthen over the red things spread across the corner of the yard. I move my body toward the shade.
The peppers laid out in the yard got damp again with the evening dew, and when Grandma moved them under the eaves, the back of her hand smelled spicy.
To you, the red peppers drying on the apartment balcony were dyed red by the evening glow, and that sight suddenly comes to mind.
I once spread red peppers in the yard and waited for the evening flock of birds. From the shaded side, a spicy scent slowly seeped out.
There was a time when hands were busy gathering the peppers laid out in the yard before they got damp in the evening shade.
The peppers drying on the cement floor in front of the shed, the afternoon sun deepening their red. An afternoon when the spicy scent seeped through from beyond the wall.
As my hand passed through the red peppers spread out in the yard, it left a place where the sunlight had soaked in.
The sunlight must be on the back of your hand as you touch the peppers. I also go out to the yard every morning and turn over the red ones.
One black pod wedged among the red peppers, I placed one in the bowl my mother used to pick out with her fingertips. A corner of the sunlit yard stayed soaked in that color all through late autumn.
Shadows slowly lengthen over the red things spread across the corner of the yard. I move my body toward the shade.