The trees yawn in the
whisper of a passing moon

swaying  breezes
to push through leafed
blades of a sun blazed meadow

cruising to dust off
dew drops from morning’s brew
flowering fields sing to mister sun

weeping to dress in the rays of his
beams and dance in the flickering
path of a windmills wave

wooden arms stretch wide
slicing the air with its
painted panel glides

gears worn, wheeling to
swoosh with a downward shovel
feeding opened troughs

swirling rivers caress
veining canals
streaming breaths breathe,

spilling into dry lands
as a gallery of horizons slowly sets

landscapes rolling mountains
kissed by the fog,
nodding with
groans to dip in sunlight’s bath

towering white knights filter,
housing the flitting nests of wings
storing up their morsels of
noonday meals

and, the sun drifts
into the marrow creases
of an orange glow

cuing a choir of crickets to crawl
on the cool banks of dark blue
crowning starlight’s symphony
lullabies dusk,

flutters a chirping red
to greet the sleepy haze
of the breaking dawn

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