The Canyon Green

Today, on my hill, it is sunny
and nearly still
warm light, cool shadows,
many birds
darting flights, unseen songs,
the canyon green.
Yesterday, all mist and fog
rolling up from the sea
over mountains
absorbing silence
drinking into leaves
and blades of grass
above dry ground,
many birds
darting flights, unseen songs,
the canyon green.
My daughter calls,
I see her cute ski-jump nose
again
a wind blows from Greece
across a wine dark sea
the sun melts
under a starry blue
far beyond the Umbrian hills
where there are many birds
darting flights, unseen songs,
the canyon green.

<><><><><><><><>