by Joseph Armstead
There is a moment in my day
when Time holds its breath...
Sitting outside,
on the porch,
watching daylight
dissolve
into slow nightfall,
feeling the heat
begin to cool,
feeling my thoughts
on the incoming tide
of evening silence,
I see the willow
at the end of the driveway,
tall, thick, ancient and
weather-worn,
draping a canopy of
vine-covered leaves
over the winding,
graveled path
to this house,
this home,
this refuge,
And it's bulky
curtain of foliage
sways with the breeze,
bisecting
the setting sun,
making the light
streaming from the eye
of the solar system
blink, again and again.
I know this moment well.
Blink. Breathe.
The clock ticks on
into the night.
From:
The 45 Apocrypha
Copyright ©:
2004, Joseph Armstead
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Last updated August 26, 2011