That “Still” Place
I am in that “still” place…
Even the wind doesn’t blow
No movement in the sage
Coyolte hasn’t been by
Fox sleeps in his den
Quail is somehere else
The branches are bare
Where the Ravens
Usually hang
Upsidedown…
Beau sleeps in the sun
I am painting
It is “visual poetry”
No words form
In my mind
Or on my lips
Sand is running
Through the hour glass
Crashing to the floor
In slow motion
So quickly
The sun sinks
Into spectacular color
The day isn’t long enough
I look up and even
You are not there
*note: This is an attempt to explain “where” I am.
annellannell 
where the ravens hang upside down…nice…the sand rushing through the hour glass crashing to the floor as well…is def visual and a great metaphor as well…good to see you annell…smiles..i hope you are well
The storytelling feel to this and the specific details puts me there, as if watching the scene unfold, so I was startled by the last two lines, which I also like very much, as they leave possibilities as to whether this is a good thing, or not.
Oh this is so beautiful, and quite poignant. I am sort of in the same place, running in place trying to “catch up” which is, apparently impossible. I love all of the references to animals – I so love critters – and then the spectacular color in the sky……wowzers…….I love that “still” place. Your sunsets are spectacular.