Half cast the globe Rolls
Around its invisible polls,
Sweeping clouds build
They cloak the world.
Watching a flock of birds crowd the air for space-
As though there weren’t enough.
Old memories: shine on like the shimmering shoals shifting through
The water rolling gently over the stones,
Dappled in leaf shadow.
Illuminates, Moon light glows and half the world rests
Whilst the other Flows.
With brisk wind brushing the grass,
The fields from the hills,
Sparrows swoop and drop
Depths unseen that no one knows.
It all reminds me
There is no certainty.
But there is Beauty.
Russ Staples DMU.