The dark half of the woods goes on forever.

The light part is anchored, rooted in the sun.  6-25-26

Soft air.

Soft clouds.

Chickadee's quiet words

reflect off the water in the blue bowl,

dance with the shimmering light

on dogwood's leaves.  6-25-26

The dusty bee busy with the 

rosy sharons does not notice 

the hole in the sky.  6-25-26

My rising catches her eye,

the lovely doe, but her warm eyes

do not find me 

behind hickory's reflection.  6-26-26

Two colors on the threaded Hibiscus--

pink and lavender.

A blending of threads, lineages.  6-26-26