feels like a fresh start

cleaning the house for summer

washing on the line

through an open door

a duck leads her ducklings to

the refectory

building river art

from our fathers’ heritage

grinding-stones and bricks

a man in waders

builds sculptures in stone and brick

a river appeased

crumbs on the table

the lingering smell of toast

a day with promise

across the old pond

abandoned pink bicycles

another shooting

at first light of dawn

the squawking of angry birds

setting the day’s mood