posted September 24, 2003 08:31 PM         

Mottled sunlight flits from nest to shadow
While the sunset winding down
Betrays with sweeping, neon lines
The passing record of the day
A rippled race of heather runners
Joins the wind at play
The cloud herds huddle
In final trickled golden waves.

Capturing a moment takes a solemn half-reflection
In that twinkling the moment fades away
What remains of anything
That the human heart retains
Is but the vapor of its breath
Left on our memories

Man hides from this shadow
Man runs from this dream
Man passes through each wisp of these reflections
Man tries to make some sense
Of the events that life presents
Then leaves each behind to die
Or so it seems.