Stubble Fields

As  mist gathers
Over stubble fields
The far monastery
Vesper bells aspire
Treble, alto and bass
Call hooded shapes
Clasped in shade
Gathered from their tasks
To praise the end of day.
In their cloisters
Shuffle one by one 
To pray.

As the sun descends
The rising of a golden moon.

JL Sept 9 12:34