Within the Field, Horses and Haystacks
Within spring abides fall,
a hot summer’s winter’s snow,
moss at the swift crossing;
hurry, and take it slow.
A bell rings across a doleful theatre.
Moving mirrors catch leaves
in a façade of sky and cloud.
Contained in a summer’s breeze
is a winter’s sneeze;
sunrise: sunset: the nighthawk.
It blows about and wheels.
All across, riverbanks,
sand, slip
as if through an hourglass.
Within the field of horses and haystacks
the façade of sky and clouds
dances to a solemn tune.
©June 6, 2013 by UT2
2 thoughts on “Within the Field, Horses and Haystacks”
My oh my Bob, I’m truly thunderstuck. Your voice is soft and subtle and I still feel a huge power. I love the line about moving mirrors. ..someone once said poetry is helping you recreate a moving experience. You do that.
Thanks for the encouraging words. It’s appreciated.