Monday's
Poem
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Equinox at the Beach It is immensely quiet. Each leaf slides unuttered, on a breath of air, the world of their fall unsettles. receives what has all this year away, up in the sky. It's all suyapi, and immoderately beautiful. But has broken. Now it rains lies across the sands in bright black shadows upward and the water, so long airy, free from its bowl, breaking, The sky is full now of the depths' The heron walks on water; the crow
This is the moment when the year turns. sail surfaces, pierces the meniscus of the grey the mountains hidden under the water-filled am swimming through sand under the crumpling air with feathers Sky soft, the empyrean deep once high, air's skin, come to rest,
It's not that the year will suddenly that things will snap to, go forward become not-suyapi, but that to the world's frame and it will be When a cherry leaf yellowed lets go We will see it that way. And it will walked on water and the rain It is only here in the changing moment, then shatter: recompose the image we are free to see both backward and |