A Thirst For Moving Things

As afternoon tilts toward evening
and the underside of calm,
a window invites distance 

where the stars arrive from their own journeys
where footsteps sound under the sea.
and the body tumbles through flecks of time.

We watch the moon cuts loose
tailed by a consort of stars.
We hear the forest singing in a thousand voices

enticing creatures into flight
and tempting us into our satin gowns and dancing shoes
until all that we know is motion.

A toothed wind streaks across the cheek of sky
trailed by air born dust
echoes of  earth swimming worms
and roots holding hard  and spreading   spreading.

Windy histories tear loose from the present
and speed toward the future.
Sound scatters the air.

And somewhere in the world
when animals step into stillness
thoughts rise volatile as dandelion fluff
pungent with time

And a breeze latent in twilight
washes us in gusts of memory