
Have a good weekend! (Slow down!)
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Hurry, Stop
There is this voice in me that says, hurry.
There is this voice in me that says, stop.
How can a single voice say hurry and stop, both
at the same time?
It makes me think of the dogs who, as I walk them,
rush to a crevice between rock and earth,
some darkness where they
suspect life lurks.
There, they stand, sniff,
bend, pant, wag,
leg-locked bustles of stillness,
that won’t budge at the tug
of leash.
That voice in that crevice of me
asks me to show the same sense, I think,
the same dumb brilliance,
of a dog—hurry, stop–
to forget about leashes.
But then there’s another part of me.
This a part that sits quietly, maybe on a rock
in some corner of the skull.
It simply watches, wonders,
what will I do, it asks. What
will happen next?
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Here’s another little poem. The picture is the detail of an illustration from one of my children’s books called, ABC Goat. (It doesn’t really fit the poem, but I like the dog!)
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Returning (In Springtime)
We went away for four days
and the leaves came.
How was it? We leave and, then,
the leaves,
their tips unscrolling
from
their toeholds,
their tips toeing their limbs.
Not like our tires, whose roll is so determined
to make time,
but like little children sneaking
into the unseen,
until, suddenly, they are ready to be seen.
Yellow green.
We come back and they smile at us,
smug in the sun.
Don’t be so unhappy, they say,
don’t think of yourself as tired,
don’t think of what
you’ve missed,
what’s lost.
Don’t think at all.
Just look.
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Poem for spring in the mountains. Pic’s imperfect, but it’s raining today! Have a good one!
(As always, all rights reserved.)
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