Sunlight dances with the shadows on the backyard porch,
falls onto the old wooden bench in golden pools,
glows on my cheeks
and illuminates the faded pages of my book.
The scents of the garden
and a faint spicy hint of the approaching cold of autumn
linger in the air.
For now, not even the neighbor's radio can disturb
the soft song of the wind and the carol of the birds,
the lazy music of an August afternoon.