This morning the clouds shifted in, the wind and the light swept across hill and field to catch and contrast against leaf and sky, pasture and cloud. One moment the hills seemed so blue, then the corn field orange, and after the next alteration it was if my perceptions had rolled over in my sleep.
The wind shifts, the landscape turns in its sleep.
Seasons slough and rinse.
Like trees, we fall in the dark forest and make no sound.
--Charles Wright, from Black and Blue, Chickamauga (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1995)
The wind shifts, the landscape turns in its sleep.
Seasons slough and rinse.
Like trees, we fall in the dark forest and make no sound.
--Charles Wright, from Black and Blue, Chickamauga (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1995)
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