Michael Edwards

A FEW LUNES

 

A FEW LUNES

 

Filial saplings

Stretch and reach

Beneath canopies

 

Sun surveys the land

Spring arrives.

Summer is waiting.

 

Beside the green pool

Deep and dank

The whispering trees.

 

No wandering path

Hedge and fence

Denying access

 

 

Wisps of gentle clouds

Floating clefs

Playing silent tunes.