EARTHS BREATH

The breath of earth,
soft winds move
the butterfly chimes
that have hung for
so long
they have become
a part of me.

A dense fog slithers
down the mountain side
after a light rain
and consumes
the skeletons of
once breathing trees;
some standing,
others still struggling
to return to clay.

Flowing fog over
thin-laced leaves.
Carcasses
of a vanquished foe
where only the veins show.

Thinning fog
across the
valley floor.
The sun-drying rays
holding it at bay.
The breath of earth returning this way;

For the music of the chime
now just a soft whisper
against my cheek.

I watched as a single leaf
fluttered against my
door step
and a dark shadow from
a murder of crows passed
overhead
seemingly calling,
calling
your name .

But that was a life time ago
when the trees were young,
the leaves whole,
and the fog cast a
ring around the moon .

That’s when the
breath of earth moved
the chimes just so.
And love was new.