June Evening Poem by Douglas Gibson

There is genius here, in the delicate hand
That traced these exquisite pastels across the sky,
In the green-gold froth of the leaves and
Distant fugitive cars that sound like a sigh;
And six starlings, flying high,
Move as the wind, move with amazing ease,
Assuming fantastic patterns against the sky
As the wind weaves patterns among the leaves.
All is complete, significant; everything
Is breath-taking, clear-cut, incredibly fine,
And the flow of a leaf, the poise of a wing
Is vital, piece-perfect of the whole passionate design.