walk with me until we can’t walk anymore
talk with me until we can’t talk anymore
laugh with me until we can’t laugh anymore
be with me until we can’t be anymore
Thinking about green summer days
when the heron flies above the river
and the breeze makes the leaves
rustle and sway.
Green summer thoughts
make a cold March morning
feel warmer.
the color of my coffee
pink stitches
this book: Amazing Rare Things edited by David Attenborough
longer days of sunlight
laughing with my kids
morning walks at daybreak
lost feathers
late winter sunsets
patches of ice floating on the river
sprinkles on strawberry ice cream
What is to distinguish us from the industrial ants who build
tunnels and drag their food below the surface for safekeeping?
Why do we think ourselves superior to the clever digger wasp
who makes his home deep into the earth?
I think these obvious thoughts as I approach the subway.
The sun sets on the tracks turning them into straight
lines of salmon steel reflecting the day’s end.
We pause at that inverted “v” where perspective
tricks us into thinking we’ve come such a very long way.