Flux

Butterflies weave
their flight
through cornstalks
ripening in the
afternoon sun.

Robins stalk the meadow
stringing out
worms, gasping
on the surface
of last night's rain.

A woolybear
winds its slow way
over a gravel road,
presaging a
hard winter.

The driver 
of the car does not see
the mash he has
left behind,
only smells
the lingering odour
of skunk.

The gore reflects
the russet
of the maples.