Horses grazing 
on the last grass
of the season
see the leaves turned
brown and hopping
like a ragtag
flock of sparrows
toward the fence line
where they’ll lodge
throughout the winter.

They don’t care 
about the red-tailed
hawk perched high
above distinguish
ing the mice from
scattered leaves.

Inside these walls
of stone and glass,
I watch them all
in almost-silence,
steady ticking 
from the upright
clock whose pendu-
lum advances
forth and back
relentlessly.