evaporation

Concentric rings

I walk to the waters edge,
unintentionally
dislodging small turtles
from their precarious perches on the fallen branch
-their tiny splashes ripple across the dark water.

The scent of green vegetation
and still water hangs heavy in the morning air
fresh and sour
at the same time.
Tiny butterflies ring my head-
a halo of pale yellow wings.

The morning air is thick with humidity
and midges. I can see the vapor rise
from the waters surface-
evaporation, transfiguration,
transubstantiation.

silver morning

july morning

seldom heard but often sung
the perfectly silvered song
of a spring morning
gilded with rims of highly polished light
till the melody is striking as wind
in chimes ringing
clear pure tones
crystalline dawn rises singing
to meet the harmonies of sapphire sky
and morning moon
enveloped into the chorus
of birdsong and sun