the wind is already making sweeping changes
for the coming months: bends my clock hand
so far, it's an hour earlier,
the dark is held for ransom.

today started over a couple of times;
i didn't mind, i got caught-up.
rather tiring on my clock-radio,
it kept playing bluesy sam cooke.

i watch the afternoon bawl its spring rain
all over the rest of the land leaving
the air damp with tomorrow's hopes.
an oasis of trees' sap stiffens.

in the country, fall winds
are on the outskirts of town.
they bow and nod to the trees;
a milk cow at the barn; next.

10/31/2007

Posted on 10/31/2007
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan