and in the wood
play among the wolves
upon the glen to glide barefoot
along the glade
rain pour down in the shade where tree limb shook
lie flat against the amethyst rocks fragrant jasmine
flow down stream into brooks
a scenic solitude rekindle quietude
muffled splashes carry the stone honed coast of evermore
close hawks boast to toast
their caws from the sycamore
giant oaks
litter the coarse ground
with acorn
the wind whips tremendous chill ferocious through the trees
in a moment from autumn
to winters drop in barometric pressure
mourn summer days long since gone that filled the body with pleasure
give me sun in his sky
sea surf sand
in pink and blue and tan
where does the sun go when it rains?
is he Incognito at Starbucks playing video games?
or is he listening to an old recording by Johnny Mathis “when sunny
gets blue”?