A Canada geese is resting Its oval head on one of the wings As if floats on a lake of late Afternoon light.

Beyond this calm, a blue jay Is shrieking in the tall maples, Which sway in the wind and shake Gold tailings

Over the gracefully flowing path. Sound and repose frame the amplitude Of time as light changes over The manor walls.

Stone glows with a fire It doesn’t own. I too am A singing stone as bells begin To toll

The first hour of night.