a red feather--
a beacon-flag of summer
standing upright in the moss near the park
not flashy, candy apple cardinal red, but sedate
wine-tinted

a welcome creek--
a meandering cradle of cooling water
clear-flowing across my feet and ankles
not the quickest way, but pleasant
soothing

a abandoned house--
a neatly-packaged adventure
standing-just barely-a little way off from the creek
nothing fancy, but generally mysterious
intriguing

a beginning--
a fine start to summer

I wonder if the feather is still there