She hung loose over the sway

And the sun crept slowly beneath.

She let it fall over her head

And it would spread no further.

Like a sound dropped—

And held in the curve of a breath,

And a glance of a wingless lark,

Like a brown, hard, bark,

Running up to mercy—

She was.

The beads of light appeared and stood,

Waiting—

Before rippling down,

And looked at her.

She was letting the sun in.

From the sky between leaves,

She moved like a spark quietened,

Twirled between roots and rocks,

She burnt in the black

She was.

And on leaving,

Closed all the world into

A dim, still, lined afternoon…

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Assistant Editor: Christina Lorenzo/Editor: Rachel Nussbaum

Photo: flickr/Johnson Cameraface