Rural Deans:
 
The churn of first blush
The freshly cut morning grass
intermingled with
a simmering magnolia,
and a graze of lavender
 
The captivating 
honeyed aromas under
stem and on new buds
teases ants and butterflies 
But, a bee waits in the wings
 
The filtered sunlight
appears wrinkled on oak bark,
highlighting patterns 
of munk and squirrel traffic 
and hiding places for bugs
 
Nearby, a spider
repels from branch to soft ground
But scurries away
when the Orioles arrive
to feast on fruit and orange rind
 
The sweet tones of chimes 
woven between wind and bird 
uplifts flower’s heads 
and twirls sweet pea vines, lacing
purple on iron trellis 
 
A fawn shyly steps
from tall grasses to meadow
shadowed beside him,
a doe tilts her head, then stares
They remain still as statues
 
A black hawk hovers
punctuating the moment 
balancing on breaks
in awareness, cusps of dreams
Is this magic? Or burden?
 
©️Winter Dawn Burns