Circle of Stray Quatorzains

The Clarity

There is no wind, and we hear birds
we have not heard in many weeks.
The clear gray light washes old boards
where lichens flare with colored fire.
We have behind us many walks,
but none in such pearled atmosphere
as this morning lets through the clouds.
We stand on pebbles sharpened with light
and hold our breathing slow to hear
the birds converse.  Time is subdued;
the running minutes stop and wait
for us to be at one with the all.
I look at you.  Your eyes are set
on things to me invisible.

Next Poem:  "Flesh and Conceits"
List of Poem Circles
Updated last on:  2001/05/24