By Annette Marie Hyder

latticework leaves tendril the sky
casting shadows
like the sly half-mast of lashes
curled against the soft cheek of the grass

the brook arches an eyebrow
and slips its arms around the whole scene
whispering to the woods and the field to come away
come away, on a sweet summer day

(It's not officially summer until the 21st but it feels like summer has arrived here in Minnesota .)