In the slightest movement
of the hands on my watch,
much less than a minute,
moment or second.

The entire world has changed.
Water falls softer onto rocks
that embrace it's arrival.
Above long slender growth
of the Black Willow sways
in a frigid breeze
saturated with sunlight.

Leaves are freed to dance
above the earth as they
drift down into my vision.

Looking at my watch now,
its hands are floating without a face.
Time, space,
what fills it is the same.
It is my vision that has changed,
falling open on November's cobalt wind.

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