Early morning light slants across my yard.
Hawk cries north of the house.
Marching band at practice hums in the distance.
Yet this September morning lies still and secretive.
Last night’s harvest moon came and went
   without so much as a HowDoYouDo.
A new day begins.
An ordinary day laid out before us.
People will be born and people will die
   on this day that began in stillness
   and a slant of golden light.
Some will weep in sorrow, others for joy.
The moon continues its travels.
Our world keeps turning.
