In Verses & Song

A few weeks ago, I took a trip home to visit my family up north. Early summer is a beautiful season there, even the rains are soft and shimmery. Nearly every day I was there I took time to sit, observe, and write. Here is a poem that came from that respite: Summer Pastoral This morning’s sky is blue-gray, strewn with clouds.  The air is cool and fresh, purple-green-gold leaves rustling gently  in thick, sturdy trees. A windmill circles in constant motion as geese pass, honking and calling across the pond.  They swim across in twos and threes, then perch  upon the grass, nipping and squawking at each other,  proclaiming their right to this bit of land.  A parading procession of them pass through the lawn,  black necks stretched high, beaks opening  to guide their goslings along.  The waters of the pond ripple and flow, fast, constant - a soothing stream.  The high, musical chirping songs of birds mingle in the air  with the drone of a mower and the hum of engines on a highway.  Streaks