Cumorah Dusk

by Nani Lii S. Furse

A fourth September slips summer

green into horizons of this

gentle-water land. Only leaves

rinsed to afterglow

stir at Joseph’s homespun passing.

Night memories seal with fire-pure

light the pending task, like high

sun on his upturned gaze during a

first planting.

Autumn wind shimmers

up through the trees, remembering

those who come in the west’s

blue hush. His hands know a

quiet of touched stone; he knows

where to kneel, then wait.

Photography by Eric Swenson