Changing Lights: A Poem

Changing Light

Do you notice 

even now 

the changing light? 

its lower, softer, more diffuse slant?

The body knows …

Somewhere in late June or early July I feel it 

first on my skin

Then I smell it

and only then 

I see it

I can’t tell you why that is or

How it curls with some ancient knowing, 

skirting the edges of my limbic system

It’s a mysterious thing to be human.

This is the in-between time

Moving from the buzzy lushness of summer towards the promise of a deepening quiet

Another turn of the wheel

The body knows.

Poem by Dayna Macy