Idyll Winds

The rose petals sing,
In beautiful unison,
Their song to the
Sun's kind warmth.

The willows' bent backs
Show their old age,
But wisdom lies
In their branches.

A fence crosses paths
With a beaten-down trail,
Its paint peeling with
Memories of the 50s.

A cabin sits
On aging haunches,
Empty now, except for
The curious crow.

THe river whispers
The moonlight to sleep,
Its love-drenched echoes
Reaching only deaf ears.