Golden sickle slows it's sway and
I imagine the sky is as softly colored as the light
proudly glittering thru her bows.
I could live here.
With the grinning willow.
Who does not weep today,
As you can see she is soaking up the sounds.
The crickets, the gentle ripple of the water where
a frog leaped in.
Warm evening has settled here,
so faint, & so charmingly.
Not even a breeze dares to
fracture the tranquility.