The Music of the Sun

How the weathervane spirals in the season’s mouth 

In blusters of feathered eyes, the tokens of ornithology 

While a parade of rooted trees dressed in cotton seed

March the greening river, heads skimming silver clouds 

Wheels of eyes turn with the season’s clock to time divinity 

Waking insects crawl up the barks of trees leaving

Hollow topaz shells, an epitaph to darkness 

And puffs of cottonwood spray the air with snow and seed

Cicadas scratch the evening air with buzzing echoes 

On a summer night captured in the gloaming 

And flocks of sparrows gather in trees and bushes 

Conversing about the day and waiting for the sound 

Of Apollo opening the gates to announce the coming dawn