The leaves continue to rustle in their lifelong tussle with the wind,
The ground, so harshly treated after yet another heartless deluge,
Warms and dries and forgives it’s haughty neighbour her sins,
The insects scan the land for scar tissue,
The birds scan for insects as I view the landscape for damage,
And find, to my relief, only fresh new colours and tiny rainbows amid the dew.