twilight taking the trees

     I stop to listen
                          the cricket does too

Listening . . . 

      after a time
         I take up my tread again

                    the silence
                          in twilight
                              of stones

                 lightly swaying
                     heavy with

fallen oak leaf
    vein side
       to the sky       

            the silence
               while the gift
                   is being opened

on my return
she brings blue plums
on a white plate

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