earth note 305

it feels like
the last warm hour
before the night chill
takes over

open hands

around a spinner
in the yard
cups the breeze just right

takes off in a burst

repetition turning
with illusions
of perpetual motion

this is what upsets

the blue jays
who know better
deep into the hillside

every stadium echo

is hollowed out
by wooden chimes
trembling rose of sharon

--- e b bortz