The new moon can’t bear
to show her face.
On the baseball field
a pair of geese preen
in peace. Coralberry blooms
around the Contemplation
Circle, gifting a quick hello
from a hummingbird among
the conifers. In my headphones:
a score composed for the planets.
My little pigeon-scattering
companion chases the breeze
as we move toward the castle.
His clover-damp mustache
and paws get lost among
tufts of untamed lawn.
How strangely lush
the months-grown grass.
How red the wet underbelly
of an acorn.
Pine-blonde tail
flexes as a squirrel
bows toward a burial.
Behind the ivy
of the stone-tucked transverse, lights
and wails move
west towards home.
