most of this summer
has been unseasonably cold
with its sunlight
sprinkled sparsely
on a stone wall

dawn oozes over the hills
like chilled syrup
with a few clouds
stuck in its puddle

the ancient pine begs the wind
to give it back its youthful figure

in late dusk, the meadow
spreads a great shadow

as twilight peers
in at my window
then shakes its head
and walks away

moonlight
drops handfuls of stars
in the tall grass

thoughts settle on their perches.

a single feather drifts down