Morning

The Sun rose up

til it was high in the sky.

I saw new things.

I saw old things die.

 

Shadows spread,

then grew softer,

and died away.

 

Flowers bloomed quietly,

then faded to brown,

and fell to the ground,

 

Butterflies danced gently,

then laid their eggs,

and fluttered to the ground;

 

...and there was not a single sound.

 

CHHolte written March 11 1981