Juncture

The virtues of a superior man are like the wind; the virtues of a common man are like the grass; the grass, when the wind passes over it, bends. - Thoreau

in a futile attempt to lay claim

a nonreciprocal april wind strutted by the inlet

coercing crisp, curled oak leaves of yesteryear to come out of their habitual places of  hiding

time looking back over its leaden shoulder and steadfast truth abiding

faith cruising and gliding

eternity never minding

Author's Note

"In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line." - Thoreau