A view at noon

The blinds are half shut, little lines of light
spilling onto the desk. The screen is dark.
There’s a mechanical pencil, an apple,
and a sprig of lavender.
My hands rest near a notebook
but my spirit is wandering
all over forests and early autumn,
hearing crunchy leaves and wind
brushing by the moon.
I like these times of quiet,
a midday fugue,
reminding me of the quiet of night
when stories come alive
in shadow and in heart,
my heart full of color and hope
in a slowly chilling landscape.