the wind in the trees
gracefully flowing forward
with its blessed song
I dig computers
with night descending
flowers proceed to slumber
a racoon prowling



this rain's gentleness
flowing over the blossoms
before the sun's grace
within this silence
listening to the rainfall
peace before the dawn
memories of dusk
treetops hidden by the night
silent memories
the rose does not
compare its beauty
to the daffodil
just a few dark clouds
a rain squall abruptly forms
soon the sun returns