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Dappled Light (with poem) | by Claudia G. Kukulka
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Dappled Light (with poem)

The time of day when the sun is high

And it's so hot, the birds don't sing

When there isn't a cloud left in the sky

That's when the pranks of trees begin.

 

Ever so slyly, the trunks and leaves

Throw their black shadows on the ground

Which hustle and flit like little thieves

And push the flecks of light around.

 

Thus opens the game of dark and light

In which the trees their leisure spend

But at the arrival of the night

Their topsy-turvy antics end.

 

(c) 2020, Claudia G. Kukulka

 

My heartfelt gratitude for your visit, fave and (if you find the time) comment.

 

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Taken on June 26, 2020