quail

there is a sound there
just over there
a sign of ... something
not ominous, not overbearing
barely there in the air
just at the edge of hearing

there is a sound that tells
that speaks that swells
in the overdone days
that seeks to compell
that draws you in
that moves the wind
of autumn's breath
the world it spins
why does the sun rise
over that forlorn prize
hidden in moonlight
and smothered in lies
and the cause of it all
is the sound, is the call
from eons ago
sun rise and sun fall

there is a sound
a pounding around
an up and a down
oscillating like frowns
and smiles and smirks
passing in and out and
through and on and away

there is