7/1/16 Carry us on

It’s a little wet, she said,
clambering through the reeds,
the plywood dock sunk
into mud, pond, pollen.
The cattails bobbing in the breeze,
their yellow dust on her fingers, and sheeting
on the still surface of the water.

Each year this spot becomes
less and less human,
despite the canoe and the chairs.
Even they nestle their way further
into the reeds and silt.
This place belongs ever more to
the ducks, the red-winged blackbirds,
the cattails, and the dragonflies
in their shining red and blue flashes.
Not that it ever really belonged to us.

Yes – carry me on waters. Carry us on-
until we find ourselves

surrendering this place,
back to itself.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s