Shadows Are Born

                   "Shadows are Born"


With the rise of morn at the edge of a forest,
yellow-green shadows are born across a poppy field;
gem-studded and stunning in brilliant wet hues.
Dewy treasure is playfully stolen,
as the growing sun shares the day.

Grasshoppers plague these magical moments
with a notion to frolic in reeds and tall grasses.
Bounteous butterflies deliver blended colors
to the day's new tapestry of flower and tree stories.
Three blue-jays promise suspense in their calling,
as mourning doves punctuate with melancholy sighs.

Beneath a gesture of disappearing clouds, a mid-day
meadow weighs heavy with heat and a dizzy feeling.
Yet, music prevails. A black-capped chickadee
picks up the tempo with a solo in tune to flitting dances
of dragonflies upon a nearby lazy brook.

Layers of dusty-rose ribbons on the horizon
secure the evening's agenda. Grey-ink fantasies
begin to improvise possibilities on a new stage.
At day's end, night magic and lunar ballads begin.
With the high rise of a full moon at the edge of a forest,
cool blue shadows are born across a field of poppies.


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