Noon in Urbisaglia
Published
Topic
Travel
For Stephanie
Does this wind howl? Maybe moan? Perhaps sing?
Certainly does not whistle...
All else so still.
A kestrel glides searching
slide over unseen drafts of air
tips and turns.
In the valley poplar leaves vibrate, tremble.
An occasional white butterfly passes.
We rest in the noonday heat
The moon swims through the background haze
a faint form floating against the blue, shuddering sky.
We wait for evening.