Shift

By Cliff Lake

 

Shift

 

The whisper low.

The flutter of a leaf too lazy to fall.

The faint scent telling tales of the distant.

A puff of dust where it is dry.

Ripples where it is not.

Ragged flower tops desiccate and shedding.

Desultory paper on the move.

A hint of moisture incoming,

Maybe warm, maybe cool,

Too soon to tell.

The hair out of place.

The film obscuring the shiny surface.

The hillocks of a moment.

The tide in the trees.

The grasses bowing in deference.

The changes heralded.

Almost imperceptible,

Ephemeral and invisible,

Yet too elemental to be stopped.

 

I wait to see what comes.

 

Cliff Lake 12/18/2023

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

Location: Dalton, MA, USA

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