Wednesday, May 1, 2019

A Fall (Day 833)

unaware of sharp-edged hours waiting 
in their midst   rough dreams break   crumpling   
stars dive   sparkling tails tracing elliptical patterns 
on a smoke-black midnight sky   their ashes paint 
broad strokes across concentric rings of roses   
full-blown as June   fragrance rending the cooling air 
all eyes fall groundward fearing the impending wave
and dark and light collide (though no one sees)
and the sympathetic wind grows still 
and clocks unwind   
    hands like windblown leaves   
    scattering before a storm   
and   in the undergrowth   a chorus of tiny frogs 
pauses    testing the silence   searching the shoreline 
for answers to questions scrawled like inspiration 
across once-white marble walls 

(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Abbie Rowe, US NARA via Wikimedia Commons

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