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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 9, Number 4, December 2015

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Adelaide B. Shaw
Millbrook, New York, USA


A Country Afternoon

It is early autumn. The sun is hot; the sky is a deep cobalt blue with a few small angel hair clouds. The breeze is slight, slipping through the chimes without a sound. There are no cars, no voices, no barking dogs. A jay calls from somewhere in the pines. A bumble bee buzzes the begonias, going from white to red to white again. Trees are dusty, tired looking from lack of rain. A few show signs of color: a bit of red on the dogwood, yellow on the locust. The colors are dull, the leaves in need of a good washing. Some locust leaves are already falling, doing pirouettes and leaps before settling quietly on the ground.

the noisy world
slips beyond my senses
there is only now
this Indian summer day
and the infinite spirit

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