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Third Act By Andrea L. Alterman The meadow noises now are slowing. While before they leapt out of the awns atop sun bleached, drought stiffened grasses, these days I hear the small insistent chorus of cicadas, grasshoppers, worker bees, and hummingbirds pausing more often now as the autumnal equinox approaches, the slow suffering in a summer sun with humidity smearing the details of the afternoon ends in severely clear mornings tipped with frost. Pairs of yellow butterflies must wait before they begin spiraling up like voices in a madrigal, reaching higher to escape the extending shadow. © Copyright 2004, Andrea L. Alterman, All Rights Reserved |
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Document last modified on: 03/06/2005