photoart: ralph murre
At the Still Point
by Susan T. Moss
Fixed gazes stare from the museum’s
glass cases filled with stuffed
New England wildlife,
a collection to refashion nature’s
nuances in rainbow hues and textures.
A barred owl gnaws a dead mouse,
a mounted cougar crouches in wait,
two beavers chisel birch logs –
all forever feathered and furred.
Outside, stars salute the cool night,
bronze and russet festoon
the season while tarnished plants
spill spice and musk.
Through the dark,
my warm breath spirals in rhythm
with pitched trills of one bird
that refuses sleep.
~ first published in After Hours