Through greening branches
sounds of splashes – she’s laughing.
Pleasant my surprise.

Bluish pond ripples,
My heart tickles – she’s singing.
Imagined brown eyes.

Loving my Summer,
like a mourning dove, graying.
Replacing my prize.

Disheartened, I swoon,
now seeing Autumn’s a loon.
Yet she’s beautiful.

Day 4: NaPoWriMo Prompt: The Lune Poem (Three lines of three words, five words and three words, respectively)