I was captured
between the whisper
of seasons
lost in autumn bliss
the pull of school campuses
taste on the tongue, a tinge of cool relief,
but then the melancholy
of slipping
as all the seasons
of the past
have eased in
and become fragments.
Between the lacy crispness
of leaves
the bounty of a full moon
heralding the call
of witching
the lost art of thankfulness
down a road that
is still winding,
a plan unraveling
seeking fire breath
and the origin of Stonehenge
captured within it all
beneath orange sky
for a moment,
the mystical and the mundane.
Ancien Hippie 