It's George's birthday;
We don't celebrate it now,
But some remember.
It's sunny and warm;
Thermometer says eighty.
(It's in the sunshine.)
Sky is crystal blue;
Shadows dapple my side lawn;
Birds fly back and forth.
Rooster keeps calling.
Is he shouting at the sun
Or is he chilling?
Measuring the light
Tree stump becomes sun dial
With its long shadows.
Devoid of people:
Small patches in the forest
As wild as Eden.
A forest of green
Grows in its own universe
On a rotting log.
Two voices floating
Next to the newly built house--
Bubbles of word sound.
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