There's a thundercloud sweeping earth with shade

a man juggling a hammer in one hand 

 

     Irises grow wide and tall 

in spring, and mid-winter 

ice on a wren's garden bath 

gently tapped to crack

 

There's a moody wave bites the granite face

darkness and stillness retire hand in hand 

 

     Our future steps we sleep to dream

ranged further for the picturesque

where lyrical lines brush their limit

breath taken away