May Being

Dawn was dimmed by the lingering clouds which had veiled the ghostly moon, but afternoon brought a few hours of intermittent sunlight which made the heaped cumulus gleam. Two hawks circled for a while as chattering acorn woodpeckers took cover deep within the pine trees. Later the clouds closed in once more, and dusk was gray. The sun had not been out long enough to turn the day hot, and the chirps of the crickets were slow. Again, the night is too cool to bring the scent of jasmine to my room, though I can smell it when I lean close to the hedge. A short while ago, a soft sprinkling of rain began to fall. The serenity makes me want a nap. I'll probably just have some popcorn and listen to Connee Boswell. Sunday, should it continue thus, will count as a pleasant addition to May.

( Sunday Verse )