A Fall (Day 833)

unaware of sharp-edged hours waiting 

in their midst   rough dreams break   crumpling   

stars dive   sparkling tails tracing elliptical patterns 

on a smoke-black midnight sky   their ashes paint 

broad strokes across concentric rings of roses   

full-blown as June   fragrance rending the cooling air 

all eyes fall groundward fearing the impending wave

and dark and light collide (though no one sees)

and the sympathetic wind grows still 

and clocks unwind   

    hands like windblown leaves   

    scattering before a storm   

and   in the undergrowth   a chorus of tiny frogs 

pauses    testing the silence   searching the shoreline 

for answers to questions scrawled like inspiration 

across once-white marble walls 

(c) 2019, by Hannah Six

Image: Abbie Rowe, US NARA via Wikimedia Commons