After lifeguards and tourists
fold their sandy towels
and flock toward another summer
After thunderstorms and cattle
resume their contemplation
of grass
After bees and wasps and power lines
stop humming
through abandoned afternoons
But before the moon pulls winter
from her deep dark hat of tricks
where it has rocked all summer
between two rabbits
and a molting dove
In those few fleeting breaths
between what we know of life
and what we wish of death
There is a pause
Absence of movement
Everywhere except our lungs
which cannot help but continue
in and in and out and out
even during the moment of silence
Nature impresses
over her other children
and we hear ourselves
thinking about leaves
Sleep falls over yellow days
***
Rae Spencer is a writer and veterinarian living in Virginia. Her poetry has been published in vox poetica, Poem2Day, Willows Wept Review, The Driftwood Review, Melusine, and elsewhere.
Leave a Reply