Morning cliuds over Hagers

in shifts from bright to dim
there is no edge, it’s all interim,
as none exists from wide to slim

the sun comes up an orange blaze,
shade evaporates in such displays,
lines are indiscernible night to day

when life from bud to apple goes
and succulence and color grows
earth is smoothly, slowly changing pose

breaths segue in respiration
in which we find no hesitations 
as intervals might mean cessation

birth moves on to what comes next
years tick off from more to less,
segue or not what follows then
we have to guess

Jim Culleny