Swift Shadows \ September. Distant Thunder

Nancy:  All it takes is the pass of the hawk to suddenly silence the chattering morning.

Swift Shadows

Sometimes I see it:

the improbable leap of the fox,

the snap of the jaws, or,

the body of the hare, hanging,

swinging, as the big cat

turns its head, stares,

and disappears into the trees.

But sometimes,

this morning, early sun,

bright air, I see nothing

but this: a puff of feathers

falling from an empty sky,

an almost visible silence,

immaculate light.

Alan:  To be open, expectant without expectations, in this moment: that is enough.

September.  Distant Thunder

Two ravens

high,

small

The seals

dance on the

water

far, far

away