~¤~

In the flame-coloured gleam from the sky
the green of the open forest meadow shine
and moisture as of it's own light:
as of it's own mirage,
as of a bewildering memory of the day.

The trees and the grass heave up to drink the light
before the shadows, the stillness comes and the night.
The confused warble from a bird spreads clear and vibrant
cool drops in the silence
and the sea's roaring surge descends
into an echo of an enlarged whispering

(Calin 03/05/09)

LPWJ eng version 16/09/09