Shivering in dark’s gloomy grip, inky waters at my feet;
The show must start! I take my seat.
Shadows from the scummy pond summon the sleepy cast.
Reluctant, the veil rises.
Dawn shyly offers her lines as blurry shapes struggle for identity.
Morning shrugs off its ebony cloak, vividly revealing all.
Sun bursts forth with warm embrace, enveloping with her maternal kiss.
Dew appears as if conjured; intoxicating with honeyed bouquet.
The absence of sound enraptures me.
Hours pass a blur.
Grass tickles my ear.
Cricket’s insistent chirp recalls me from my interlude.
Sun exits with a bow of scarlet blaze.
Dusk comes to the fore as pastels fade to the falling curtain of gray.
Content, I silently applaud.