A westerly wind
Throws its arms around my shoulders
A warm hug
While all the leaves
Laugh loudly
On this midsummer noon
A day flying bat over the pond
Mirrored by a dragonfly
Above the rust and ragged robin
Dances in time to distant drums
Young apples and old carp
The perfect balance
A snapshot
Of this midpoint on the solstice
On the hill they wait
Old stones counting songs
Till sunset
But here, in this warm breeze
Now the storm has past
I count my blessings
As the year moves on
