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Saturday, July 25, 2015


when my footsteps have slowed nearing
the end of my stroll on the path i’ve chosen
having smelled the sassafras and the pine
eaten the wild berries and cherries
my heart has beaten in sync with love
and my eyes have shed the tears lamenting
the departure of joy

i want to hear the sound of a running brook
o’er limbs and stones
rustling leaves on trees from the breeze
and the songbirds singing later ascending to leave
their silhouettes pressed against the clouds that
soar across a now softly painted crimson sky

i wish to sit and watch the dusk roll in quietly
then hear crickets and cicadas begin their
chirping attending in their celebration until
the veil of darkness descends to visit with
the hoot of the owl and the whispering, settling
of night and the nocturnal calm arrives

my head tilts upward to gaze at tiny pin holes of light
dancing about in darken space of the sky and
a lunar smile looks down upon the cricket and the owl
whilst my eyes begin their slumber and
all else sleeps