All is well

My feet move Slow
On a country road,
The wind blows gently
Upon my back.
White clouds sail south
On a clear blue sky.
Buzzards soaring in circles
High up above,
In their search
For dead treasure below.
Cicadas signal summer
Is near to an end,
Corn stands tall in the field.
A full yellow moon
Will soon rise in the east.
Everything is as it should be,
Beauty with peace,
All is well.