Day breaks early
Softly in the veld
Another night survived
For those who did.
Day feeders open the eye
Night feeders head to ground
A hand over of sorts
Soaking natures silence
Wrapped in sunlight clear
Voices dapple through the trees
Leaves burnt orange and falling
Weave mulch carpets
Where prints may leave a track
Days spent in sentient splendour
Far from city noise
Allow absorption of air so still
Soul nurtured through the scene
Until night feeders break their cover
And bed becomes my ground
****
© Copyright 2016 Robin McShane
