The Sun still lays low
Resting along its climb
Up the sky.
Across the grass
Caressing each blade
To ward off Sunlight.
The Basin’s water is a still
September mirror.
Only arcing fountain spray
Cuts the glass.
Walking up the hill
Grass greets me with
A gift of cold morning dew
Each blade offering a drop.
They soak through my soles
Nourishing me.
Reaching the top
I have summited to a moment
Of frozen serenity.
Not even a stirring
Breeze intrudes.
As if I entered a time slip or
Into a polaroid
-A perfect moment-
Developed.
Across the far horizon,
Haunting Monoliths tower above all,
Remnants of man’s devotion to
The faith of iron and steel
Lightly veiled in morning haze.
Nature does its best to obscure
Man-made structures.
They don’t bother me
Those distant, empty obelisks.
I know I’m safe among the trees.
A Poet's Perspective 