A field of seeded dandelions—gusted. The remaining empty stalks. My body: awaiting sleep.
cloud walk—this house full of cotton the morning after a tousled night
The whole pond of geese alights— wings sharp fins against the periwinkle sky in which also lives and rises a gray reef of leafless trees. As their school departs in loosely forming “v”s a raft of toffee-colored ducks rises, their feet still wet in the air, and finally a bald eagles cuts in, flying opposite the great trajectory—unmistakably large and lustrous white at head and tail.
It's as though a key long resting in a lock has finally turned—
Now I'm in the aviary—each perch a person, a project. My mind flits from encased work to work.
Gone now—the way sugar lust zipping along a kid's tongue melts like snow as she stretches up, as cartilage hardens and bones take on muscle. The strength to bear burdens quietly.
Does a blade of grass tremble on a warm, sunny day? The worry— make the most of it! Don't waste it!