May 18, 2020

In the dawn sky

the old moon
wrapped in pink silk

an owl watches silently by the bridge

a pair of geese pass over

then a heron in the distance

the incessant din of morning birdsong
the incessant din of distant traffic
like my mind

under it all, the creek murmurs

before it is over–a hawk, a mallard, a robin
snatching a worm from the sidewalk
right in front of me

finally back to asphalt, a dove
mourning on the lamp post

Morning dew on evening primrose