Softly the wind came over the hill

Eddying down the funnel of the valley

Rustling in the big sycamore.


With it, all the way

To the fathomless horizons,

Went all the noise of this troubling life

The yard falling silent

The leaves once more quietly glowing green

In summer sun.


This life story

Like an old novel

With flapping pages


Into the bin.