Friday, May 13, 2016

"If you asked 

the sources of his glee he would shrug  
his thick shoulders and roll his eyes  
upward to where the turning leaves  
take the wind, and the gray city birds  
dart toward their prey, and flat clouds  
pencil their obscure testaments  
on the air. For a moment  
the energy that makes them who  
they are shatters the noon’s light  
into our eyes, and when we see  
again they are gone and the street  
is quiet, the day passing into  
evening, and this is autumn"

from Salt and Oil
by Philip Levine

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