for some time scurries
rustling about underneath
the droppings of trees
time has big eyes
small paws and saves seeds
for us
time is an eagle
a vast bird of prey perched
on an outcrop of stone
like stone unmoving
sharp eyed and harsh
time beckons with stillness
in the beginning of the adventure
we consider time
a mountain
in the blue ridge
whose folds we could shred
with the power of flight
in crossing
the folds of mountain
as a moth or a jay
time ripples
and expands
it lifts
toward the heavens as moth
wanders toward moon
as jay rises and falls
heaven bears down on time
softening the sharp upper edge
where when we reach it
time is so large it seems stable
as we cross the precipice
more than any difference
between the granite
and time’s talon
we notice the snowy wind
and the soft shreds of cloud
passing like veils
for us wingless
time becomes an interrogation
of each stone in the path
time is also our whorled
fingertips on ridged bark
time is a swirl of cold creek
our thirst savored
our knowing that way is the way
to the ocean
it happens
after we cross the misty talon of time
time’s golden head tilts
the dark eye sparkles
all we feel is a lightening of the earth
a brightening of the sky
we stop and look around
- what was that?
as time lifts off
and plunges
having perceived a meal
rustling and squeaking
