by Tom Hennen
Cold wind.
The day is waiting for winter
Without a sound.
Everything is waiting—
Broken-down cars in the dead weeds.
The weeds themselves.
Trees.
Even sunlight
Is in no hurry and stays
For a long time
On each cornstalk.
Blackbirds are silent
And sit in piles.
From a distance
They look like
Something
Spilled on the road.
Fantasy author Terry Pratchett wrote of a place called Ank-Morpork, where the sun rises and sets more slowly than anywhere else in the world. Lingering light is always such a beautiful image.
ReplyDelete