Golden Boughs
The trees acknowledge me Nodding their heads In the breeze
Contrasted pillars Of black and white Glowing golden
Packed full of Black birds Suddenly silent
Then bursting away In a tightly packed School of flight
Growing calls Of the animals Preparing for the night
Herons tall And purple Pecking their evening meal
As little perfection Can be found in this world This moment, one–
Lifts my spirit and Makes me bound Giddy as a child called to home.