mid-october.

it spoke to me
as if I was that lost little girl
her ear pressed against the wind
standing alone and lithe
on a wheat colored hillside
this time, facing south
with a promise of change
murmuring over her like
thousands of blackbirds
bending the air,
dipping to reach her
to touch her face
beneath last season’s corn


© 10.9.12 heather brager