When the Grass Lies Still
There is a certain time of day
when the wind holds its breath
when the grass lies still
the world is bathed
in red light
in blue shadow
Burrowing below
to the deep
dark roots of memory
wandering over quiet hills
away through leaden skies
on the whispering wings
of the black birds
Then the wind exhales
the grass begins to stir
I come home
changed
curious
waiting
2002 l Catherine Eaton Skinner