Soon

Now is the time of spring when I can watch moonset through a thin patch of trees. The thin haze turned the moon gold, and by moving my head back and forth I could make the fragments of light appear to flicker like a fire in the woods, until it lowered and went out. The birds began to chirp almost as soon as the moon had vanished. The more pleasant the nights become, the sooner they end. The brightening cerulean arch of the east is like a premonition.

( Sunday Verse )

Rise

After only a few hours, patches of lawn lose their deep green and begin to show bits of brown. The sunlight glares from the pavement. Standing in one spot, I soon feel the heat through the soles of my shoes. The buzzing of bumblebees is everywhere. Perfectly blue sky roofs a drowsing landscape, the leaves barely stirred by the slightest of breezes. A dry scent invades the air. The moss retreats, darkening, flattening itself against the bark of the mulberry tree. Spring declines, and desiccation begins.