The garden of remembrance sprung into life.
Yesterday's pleasant silence has died.
Today, the puffed up, speckled sky contains a breeze, makes all things bend.
They bend not or fall, nor doth the rain drop.
The breeze today tickles with touch of a child and the trees all seem to laugh.
A fox breached the morning at the break of dawn, almost rubbing his eyes and starting to yawn.
Back to his den through the long grass he ran, under the fence and through next door, looked up again and saw him no more.
Nipped up the garden a little bit wet; went out to seek his route of escape, followed his paw prints right up to the last, but with the daybreak there came a dead end; makes me wonder if I'll see him again.
Perhaps, just perhaps, he heard my dog, coming huffing and puffing off out for release of this morning river.
(C) LIVVI 2014