Spirit

It is no longer at rest,
Only a swirl of dead leaves
Approaching the riverbank
And spinning into the waves.

It is a black hawk
Rising above the trees

slim shadow
Searching for prey
And finding none,
Dissolving into haze.

It is a discolored stone
Dropped by a small boy
Into a hard-water well,
Ice-cold and black,

falling,

And remains

Though it has been
A hundred years

The boy like a moth wing
Crumbled into powder

falling.

Thomas Reynolds teaches at Johnson County CommunityCollege in Overland Park, Kansas, and has published poems in various print and online journals, including Combat, American Western Magazine, Flint Hills Review, Alabama Literary Review, Aethlon-The Journal of Sport Literature, New Delta Review, The Green Tricycle, Ariga, 3rd Muse Poetry Journal, Sidereality,and Prairie Poetry. My poem "How to Survive on a Distant Planet," published in Strange Horizons, was nominated for a Rhysling award for best short poem.

Find more by Thomas D Reynolds in the Author Index.

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