
Morning glory. Toshiyuki IMAI. CC BY-SA
In the half-light
the barest fog
wisps about the trees
silhouetted against
a colorless sky.
The stars have gone.
Stillness but not silence
just the faintest thrum
of summer symphony
by insects of the night.
The last long encore.
Cool expectant breath
of the dawn
before day is fully awake
like the rooster nearby
with his rusty, lusty cry.
Circadian rhythm. All is well, is well.
I stand
under the haloed half-moon
drinking in the glory
of life
even in its transitions.
Even in
farewell, farewell, farewell.