The beauty of a summer mist Golden hay Neatly rowed Sweetens the air Like old wine flowing Meadow thistles Fireweed and purple vetch Lend the air A lilac glow To ease my going The promise of shining lapwings Bids me onwards Though the hill feels steep The cherry tree has lost her blossom But still she shines With misty light From silver leaves And on the dim-lit heights There’s no horizon Which is mist And which is heather? Blurred lines And I’m holding tight In gentle lilac light #poetry