the cicadas call
across the lake

a cacophony
that is not entirely unpleasant

a pair of herons
don’t seem to mind

as they make their way
through the braids of blue sky

the deep green
of the water

is unbelievably cold
as there is still snow

in the high mountains
thus is this side of summer

newly leafed
and breathing

if you seek to fall
you will do just that

if you call for the words
sometimes silence is the answer

break off a piece of beauty
you will be surprised