DM Babbit Poet Rhyme

Shadow Run

The day, now clearer-skied and cloudy strips cruise
 in shades of deep dark sapphire and Aegean blues
  with sweeter shades of cerulean azure oceanic hues; 
stretching out in yawns across the western horizon
 as if riding on the surf rise of Poseidon;
while in the east, straight up past high noon widening
it comes -
 the rising, glowing creamy coconut balled sun
  brilliant blinding white ivory yellowed burning rays run,
cooled in the breeze yet hot on the skin and face
 but here, in the garden place
beneath the shaded nurtured paths
 where the maple, sycamore, and oaks holdfast
  beneath them, the shadows are cast;
the leftover morning imagery begins to spill,
 in scented lilacs, honeysuckle and magnolia fills,
soon with perfect time and match
 birdsong rings from nested eggs that hatch
  life grateful that winter chill has passed;
as spring returns smolder and burns
 with every flowing ghost of shadows in their turns, 
they dance, they hide, they glide,
 life flows in the shadows run.

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