L'aura del Campo

Dance of the sycamore

Dance of the sycamore

Feet up,
They float through dense air,
a spiral dance whose destination's
always grounded.
Already,
stiff and tanned from August sun,
they've spun to the last lingering notes of cicada-song,
the crescendo of the cricket chorus.
They seek solace
with their fallen brethren.
Those who once kept the sky in space,
now resting in place, begging
the clouds come lower
as squirrels
peer up at the sycamore, searching
for one last leaf.

© Kåre Enga 2007 [164.232] 2007-09-05

Hmmm ... needs editing and work on the line breaks, but it needed to be put here today.

Very stressed out. Big decisions and not enough information to make the best choice. Fair to good will have to do.

IMAGES:

Trucks and planes; a far-off rumble; no train; a disturbed cicada clicking away; the soft ssss of the crickets; grey dirt under a grey sky; patches of blue; goldenrod providing the only sunshine around.

23,596