sky swept clean

the mornings are clearer. less weight in the sky. with clouds i am lifted. swept clean by the cool autumn air.

the river is fading. marking the point between seasons. i am on the other side. tracing the last of the cool water as it winds down through the town.

in these small readjustments are cataclysmic changes. richoter scales the walls and then comes down again.

on these cool nights we grow closer. clarify like that great dome of diamonds that stretchs upward.

a canvas of satellites. we reflect what is meaningful, what is frivolous, what is futile. all the while keeping pace with the roations of home.