Friday, October 17, 2008
Flying toward the equinox,
the mystical shifting of polarities
that generates autumn perspirations
and soon mute frost.
Momently poised on the hillside,
between orbs, sifting light,
as the field is rolled and stored;
saving up the summer to feed the winter.
All life suspended in the flux between poles,
teetering on time,
like this photo, stop action,
while wheeling engines spin soundlessly.