A Morning by Tuttle Creek (7/26/2008)
My dream may not end with the caw of a distant rooster,
But may end with the song of a cardinal nearby
Or the chorus of cattle.
The bass of mooing echoes from everywhere.
I can never tell from which direction it originates.
The sun rises behind the trees.
The grass is still moistened by the dew.
When a humming bird greets me,
I see an airplane stop in the air.
Robins fly close to the ground.
There is more food on the grass than in the air.
While they walk and peck insects,
Their heads move back and forth watching.
The exposed root of a fallen mulberry tree still holds to the earth.
The tree continues to bear fruit as usual
Though torrential rains eroded away most of its soil.
I should not forget to mention a pair of geese of my neighbor's.
They will salute me with an Indian style "whoopee"
If they know I am approaching.
