Big clear drops of rain
on the green leaves.
The wind brushes the
leaves gently and
they shake and some
of the drops fall
down onto other leaves
or onto the damp
forest floor.

A spider’s web
formed perfectly.
The web bellows like
a sail in the breeze and
the spider sits in the
lookout nest in the
center of the circles
holding its thin world
together, waiting for
life captured, stuck
to vibrate the
sticky strands.

Dusk, mist over
the river.
A cow moos.
The birds are quiet now.
A lone katydid trills
hearlding the dark,
the last of the light,
the coming of night,
the woods grown still
and quiet.