Contributors
daylight savings time
the gleaning of the day
is not a momentary thing
nor should it be taken lightly
i was walking a road of gravel
there were weeds along the cusp of ditch
tall, rangy, ragged, some still held
the last of the flowerheads
bees and butterflies
had long since abandoned them
the sky was a warm blue matte
unsullied by cumulous or cirrus white swatches
across the tapestry
if you listened closely
there was a faint breeze
and a distant hum of tires
on concrete and asphalt
blackened with the velocity
of clocks moving backwards
birds were fretting
in the pines
they did not roost in the oaks and poplars and maples
as these were losing their leaf
in red crimson gold orange rust agony
but they dropped silently
as if it never happened
leaves know their time
will come again
a slivered silver opaque moon
hung in the sky
how could such a thing happen
in broad daylight?
brown sheaves of barren corn stalk
withered vines of tomatoes
squash and pumpkin tendrils squandered
sunflowers gone to seed
bending back to earth
their work was done
mine was not.
Chuck Waters
