A Beautiful Day

the fields are empty now
the grains have been harvested
the clouds drift and stay a while
on the side of the green mountain
still dressed with mists and fog
the trees line the path
the leaves are green and lush
i take as usual this morning walk
towards a hut beside a graveled path

a white heron arrives and lands
on a drying pond
the sun just shines to mark a
beautiful day
the pale horizon turns pastel blue

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!