Autumn Sky

 

After the harvest has been made

But before the frosts of winter have begun

The Midwest holds a special sort of magic

 

On nights when the moon takes its rest

Drive out to a small town

Then head away from the highway

And toward the darkness

 

When you realize that you’re nearly alone

The darkness seems friendly

Welcoming

As though it expected you

Whenever you’ve arrived

 

Far away from the dimming haze of light

You’ll discover endless universes

Represented in tiny, fantastically powerful orbs

That reach out singly to touch the whole of you

 

And wonderfully, graciously

This silent communion can last as long as you like

Or at least until the stars begin to fade

 

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2002

 

 

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