DAY 94 - 7:45 AM

 94.

7:45 PM. 

The setting sun hangs low 

in the western sky, sends

a single golden beam

to shine on my oak tree.

Peaceful, serene, fleeting.

Just that one spot

of honeyed light

against furrowed black bark, 

tapestry of time.

Profound stillness reigns.

The sun slides down

toward morning 

in another part

of the world,

my night 

is just beginning.

*comments welcome

Tender budding

green oak leaves

rest together tonight

with tiny acorn nubs.

They'll spend

the summer growing.

By fall, their season over,

they'll tumble to earth 

settle around the trunk,

form a protecting blanket

against winter's cruelty.