On Our Way Home, Things Get Suspended for a Moment

The snow flurry passed & the sun came out.
Clouds parted over corn stubble, turning the field
into an amber lake.

The way you find yourself leavings
after months of bad weather,
so an amber wash across a field came
& went—a body to be entered, crossed, held onto.

Copyright © 2005 Julia Wendell All rights reserved
from Dark Track
WordTech Editions
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission