Playing with words

I am playing with words, I am reaping what I sow

as the delicate crickets sing their morning song

like a pre-recorded message from long ago.

A comfy gray sky hangs over us today, its aura casts

a different shade of green on the Maples’ leaves.

Swirling in and out and around their dense

presence I spy branches of dark umber in their midst

I spy the robin and the sparrow in their leafy canyons

A meadow is a lake is a prairie is an ocean

As we sit calmly on the coast, on the shore, at the

outside edge of tumult or tranquility, looking in…