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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

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