Absence is Presence

 

Almost noon again;
Body still needs the sleep;
Sun shines through the green.

 

Pungent coffee smell
Escapes from the waiting pot
And tickles my nose.

 

 Lit by light patches
Path into the woods invites
The eye and the heart.

Sitting in shadows
Under the shade of the tree--
Kids at school again.

Open black barn doors
Yawn out their bleak emptiness.
Absence is presence.

The old wooden fence
Leans over the dry stream bed
This September morn.

Polkadotting trees
Blue green lichen finds their host
Without resistance.

The woods are singing
Their sharp, high pitched tuneless song.
It's softer today.