It’s the sound of water

Lapping at the dock

As my daughter dangles

Her feet in the midnight blue

Of a summer lake.

Walden Pond

It’s a walk around the block

With my little dogs

And a grey rock

Steeple reaching for the blue heavens

On an autumn day.

Kylemore Abbey

As the moon sings

Her cyclic songs

Over all the world

I forget if only for now

That the world is loud.

It’s the swish of shovels.

Snow piled high,

Plows hold the world hostage.

And I am in

A season of rest.