One evening in July

I lie in my bed towards evening
watching the swallows;
their free flight
against a backdrop of clouds
eases me.
 

One afternoon in July

Quiet of summer.
Only the sound
of the man next door
pottering in his overgrown garden.
 

One morning in July

I am amazed
by the light as I wake.
My fears are transformed
by the sun on the curtain.

Walking in woods
all is as it should be,
pattern of silence,
trees tower to the sky.