Afternoon – Page 61

pulled taut and snapping
the pole holding fast the flag
standing at half mast
–
icy rain
her cheeks
freshly wet

air laced with woodsmoke
thick with a rich silence as
the rain turns to snow
–
twilight
listening to
the snow fall

the low midday sun
shadows of geese noiselessly
passing overhead
–
dancing water
a clingy black shift
of morning ice

jagged windblown sand
making a meal of driftwood
in the desert sun
–
just beyond the dunes
a faint whisper of
false promises

shutters hang askew
a cracked and peeling screen door
banging in the wind
–
fading laughter
shards of glass litter
the sun baked earth

lying in the grass
in quiet conversation
with the fallen leaves
–
mottled sunlight
spruce needles
murmur underfoot

bone tired, weary
driven forward all the while
dragging this baggage
–
shimmering heat
an old prospector
pulls at his burro

ice over fresh snow
the delicate crust holds me
momentarily
–
warm green grass
a raindrop rolls
down my cheek

a flash of silver
bright water patters and breaks
the woodland silence
–
finally unfettered
carried aloft
on golden wings

as the tide comes in
the quiet surf erases
our mingled footprints
–
salt breezes
clammers digging
in the wet sand