Over time this day as the sun peeks over the hills covered by clouds in this curve in the road, an overlook of the river,
Look on up the highway, to the mist over Moses Mountain, meandering over its evergreen gold until the grey over the sun dissipates along with the mist.
Flags over the school unfurl, welcoming us; Posters over the trash can remind us of what to think over;
Chief Joseph, Chief James, and other chiefs watch over daily that we may walk the right path over the moments of our days.
Green over fire damaged hillsides fill us with hope; Budding trees over the city streets are memories of welcome shade in sizzling summers; River flowing over the dam releases water preparing for today’s floods and transmitting power overhead through miles of wires held by towers like giants watching over us.
In our canyon, the sun sets early over our city, beckoning us up out of the canyon for a walk along the still sunny coulee, through which ancient floods over the land left boulders the size of Volkswagens plopped upon other boulders demanding we remember; this day magpie hops up over the ledge beneath the ancient rock, eying me eying the boulder.
Lest I forget, magpie follows us over the path, looking back to the boulder’s home and grey rain approaching over the town beyond and reflecting in Crescent Bay Lake watched over by blackbird on his cattail perch, chirping to send us home where songbirds still sing in the branches over the house, branches still waiting for spring buds to send us over to summer.
Over time this day the sun drops to darkness and the day is over.
over -- a small word
that makes you think
about your world
over and over