The sun turns gold the morning mountain mist
That hangs above the pond in silent peace
The dragonflies each other seem to miss
Each wing beat of the whole is just one piece
Approach the lazy moose from waking pines
His shadow dark upon the morning pink
He strolls the trek, the steady downward climb
And dips his massive head to take a drink
The gallant moon has silenced every wolf
As fallen down into the western sky
The pack is hunting breakfast as a whole
The deer are fleeing tails bouncing high
The mist has risen from the mountain pond
The day begun, the night to come anon