Haikus - 3

In the great trees, the sun
reflects off the few leaves it strokes, it is gone.
I am thinking; thoughts

The sky’s three layers of cloud are all moving:
Beneath them, the trees, birdlike, twitter;
A soft wind

At the base of the tree,
Air moves three leaves: they gleam.
Six feet above, beside, below –
Nothing stirs. Suddenly, all glitters.
Wind!

Great clouds; grey, silver-edged;
Great gaps of blue;
Great shafts of sun;
O, he is truly gone.

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