Clichés # 2

I hesitantly trod the widening dawn,
initial coolness, when the light seemed still
and all the air was quiet. Before long

the amber morning, full of dancing dust,
lay trembling on the space between the trees
and on the fields of flowers. Down the dale

the sparkling river's joyful laughter sang
a wordless tune of happiness to come,
and in the dips the road was drenched in strips

of shining water. There was no one near,
and no one had to be – this first long day
seemed perfect in itself, complete and whole,

pure as a child's amazement, lost and found
in wide-eyed wonder at the stories told
to eager ears that would too soon grow old.