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A Moment



The evening train clamoring in the distance,

Side winds slowly up the coast, its somber

Sound fills the soft summer air, then,

Beds down in golden grasses of canyons below.


Sun, lazily lingering above the edge of the world, 

Ignites the sand stone rocks, nestled in

Chaparral, shaded black holes, carved by

Wind, peer back at me.


Vultures celebrate the eve.

Catching warm canyon breeze, down

They speed, straight, strong wings, outstretched,

Banking upwind, sun reflecting, silver gray under wing.


Below, band-tailed pigeon, perches

Statuesque, yellow legs gripping dead branch lookout,

Perfect cover save its red roving eye, which, 

Catching mine, off he flies, down wind.


My ear turns to the evening coo of 

Mourning dove, paired with partners,

Sleek silhouettes upon tawny stone, soft and silent, 

They seek wild seed below.


And then, wind, subtle in its course this eve,

Brushes my cheek and carries

My thoughts, softly drifting, over ridge and sea,

Joining red tails circling blue sky above.


Whoever I was a moment ago, I am no longer!

Seeming perilous civic obsessions

Drift away with canyon breezes, loosing 

Import in the golden rose haze of dusk.


The world now curbs its motion in this timeless space,

Stillness vibrates and embraces all.

Air visible and full stops its travel,

Silence and serenity abound.


My eye soon tracks the sun.  A glowing

Yellow ball touching an indigo sea, 

Flattening out, it now moves swiftly…

This age-old moment will not last.


Slipping past the edge of earth, the sun

Calls forth cold inland air dampened by mist.

Swirling its way atop dark ridge above, passing 

My momentary life, it hastens down canyon creek.


Night slinks urgently into this waning day,

One last lone dove, joins the cold moving air,

Tucked wings, inside misty air stream, she flies

Straight into dark canyon shadows and is gone.



               Doyle Hollister 2003

C. Doyle Hollister MFT

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