In a rickety old chair

This photo draws me in

It is not one of beauty

A woman sits contemplating

Maybe she is just exhausted

Or maybe she seeks to hide

In the mist on her Indian hill side

The mist hints of beauties

I cannot yet hope to explore

Of hidden towns and creatures

Of treasures yet to find

Yet the woman sits contemplating

In a rickety old chair

And the foreground of dirt

Makes me think of plain old life

There is no richness of money

There is no perfection here

There is just a woman

Dirt, grass and mist

In a rickety old chair

Thanks to Sarah Coultis for the photo – I really do love this photo 🙂

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