the hills behind the journeymen

were folded by God in such a way

that the hues of grey even as the Sun died beyond their creases

gave up their light to the dusk

but the dusk refused them

and in time betrayed them to the dawn

like a bicycle pedaled by a child endlessly in joy

and the dust she raised powdered the leaves of the trees

as she passed autumnal

then was silent

Leave a Reply