a white egret at the marsh
Dusty Springfield
cool, foggy mornings
turkey vultures in the field
fairies blowing bubbles at the fair
the sun dancing on green leaves
glass marbles in a dish
pink dahlias
french vanilla coffee
and chocolate croissants
all that we can see
and all that we can’t
all that we can say
and all that we won’t
all that we can do
and all that we don’t
i think about the complexity of life
after a difficult conversation
and the simplicity of life after watching a goldfinch;
but then, i spot two mourning doves mating in the grass,
and watch them become startled by a dog
barking at a darting dragon fly–
simplicity melts into cause and effect, the chain reaction tripping a switch in my head that makes me look up at the day opening before me and quietly walk away
does weathering the storm really make us stronger–
or does it break us into tiny little pieces;
blown away by the wind,
washed clean by the rain,
and dispelled forever into a dark oblivion?
the rich, bursting, ripe colors of late summer flood the senses and gladden the heart
whispering your name into the fog,
the soft sound was carried gently by the rising mist,
while a cool august breeze caressed the echo
“Everyone clapped and cheered, and it almost made me cry.”
“What would you buy if you were me today–what’s really good?”
“Yesterday a big snapping turtle came out of the water and scared him so much, he spread those huge white wings and flew away.”
“They had tin foil on their heads.”
