Thursday, March 7, 2013

How Change Happens


An hour past, the Spring
released cold, hard
drops in a cascade of
half snow, half
water from a dotted cloud
line.

Two hours past, the
whitened air seemed
alive, brushing past
sleeping trees still coated
in frost icicles.

Three hours past was dark,
day gestation, the end of moon.
Now, a sky is shredding
into sun. I see, change
accumulates, then appears.
at

Letter to Don Henry/ The Eagles

Dear Mr. Henly I listened to your song "The End of the Innocence" today. I was driving down a wide street on a beautiful fall day;...

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