the winged sun
whispers light
the winged sun
expels white dust.
and the morning dew
cold to our touch
and the deer trail
leads us deeper into the woods.
subtle April needles green mingling
with ancient blue from an artist’s palette.
the ravens echo mocks other birds
a ploy and trick to conceal its presence,
or the thoughtful playing as the sun rises
and the black wings extend.
over the tree top
a murder gathers and
the prairie grasses slither
in the afternoon wind.
in unison with green pine,
blue spruce and light birch
a voice grows to perfect pitch
and grandfather speaks.
another day has passed.
