Low sun casts
Long shadows on
Fields of clover
It pops like
Buttery popcorn this
Sun turning the
Trees into freshly
Washed stalks of
Broccoli or large
Parissols staving off
The sun from
Delicate roots behind
Clouds now the
Bashful shadows shimmy
Up tree trunks
Leaving a dusty
Remnant quietly behind
Men are like
Pigeons on a
Wire all cooing
Me Im like
A morning dove
Flying into adventure
With my mate
Have you ever
Seen a lonely
Morning dove because
I have not
And one large
Black cloud stood
Still above me
And let loose
Saturating me with
Affection and interest
And as quickly
As it began
It ended my
Cloud moving on
Perhaps I should
Get an umbrella
If I’m going
To play again
In the rain
And finally my
Bird friends awakened
Singing their melodies
In harmony as
They fly weave
And bounce from
Shrub to fence
To tree to
Shrub woodpeckers tap
Morse code off
In the distance
As ducks waddle
And quack at
The edge of
The pond oh
If only you
Could hear this
Symphony you’d fall
In love with
These birds as
I already have
This morning’s sky
Wears ear muffs
Everything is grayed
By cloudy voices
There is no
Definition as though
You’re peering into
A mucky pond
High above you
Even the tall
Trees have taken
On black pallor
As though they
Tarnished quickly overnight
Perhaps if sun
Can burn through
We will have
A happy day
If not it’s
Time for a
Blanket and tea
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 