Ah the delight of dawn!
Over the grassy lawn
the spark of silk, of silk
spat out by some small spider
to be the breeze's pawn.

A distant siren whines
from the freeway. Sun shines!
What a Sunday, what peace!
An old man's tidy peace,
his favorite hour of all.

The ants march on in rows.
They're off to do who knows
what harm to the ripe pears ...
Such sun now on the wall!
The lizards heed its call.