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
Falling
Into the bin.