10th Moon

By Cliff Lake

 

10th Moon

 

When the shadows grow long,

When the air cools swift,

When green goes red,

And the goose cries overhead,

You feel the change,

And your senses heighten.

 

The clatter of baring branches,

The flash of yellowing leaves falling,

The low whistles of wind in the eaves,

These herald the change,

Keeping you watchful,

And waiting.

 

What do you wait upon,

Or is it whom?

No matter how often you have lived this,

These swift shifts promise unsurety,

Variances in sight and sound and feel,

And the nights darken more deeply.

 

Moonlight comes clearer,

Sharpening edges and outlines,

Night sight precision

Induces more uncertainty than clarity,

Accuracy is not associated with night vision,

A certitude that must not be trusted.

 

So too are night noises more evident,

Palpable in their sharpness,

Seeming both too near,

And not far off at once.

A deception in distinctness,

Unmeaningfull when heard.

 

The changing weather,

New smells that speak of age,

Warm suns and cold winds,

Slanted light.

Summer has closed,

And long darks draw near.

 

Cliff Lake 10/1/2024

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

Location: Wichita, KS, USA

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