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Spending Summer Evenings among Flannel Flowers and Ghosts

Brilliant shafts of sunlight penetrate the canopy of ancient trees, and dance across the leaves of fern and flannel flower.

The warm still air is silent but for the sounds of a cool stream tripping and running across its smooth pebbled bed

A dragonfly hovers and skims restlessly above the water’s rippling surface on gossamer wings

Now and then a plaintive bird call rings out and hangs in the air like an arrow turned to mist

Bare feet glide noiselessly over the moist leaf-strewn path leading to the glade, as the daylight fades and encroaching darkness beckons.

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Bill Hunt