1000 Gnats Flitter

In the flickering of the sun beneath the cedars

1000 gnats flit

and the little boy in his red shirt 

flashing in the vacant lot 

I have never known more of paradise. 

Leaning back to gaze through the heavy laden apple  branches

and I have never been more there than now

(so much simpler than widely imagined).

The gossamer filaments radiate in rainbow light

and the spiral web beneath the cedar limbs

so-well equipped to capture evening’s flutter

from the green grass  to the sunken limbs

the golden light splashes upon.

Two squirrels romance and game in luxuriance 

while July’s poet contemplates the ‘be’

 and ‘to be’

of the birds’ persistent whistle.