POETRY
THE OAK
I am already everything
I could possibly be
said the Acorn
Do Over
birds and leaves and things unseen
pass over my head
turning green to rust and red
and all the dust
turns to mud beneath my feet
I walk because I’ve lost my chance
so I look where I can
up at cotton clouds
in blue slivers of grey sky
searching crevices
on this massive mountain side
in the hollows of trees
I strain to see the unseen
birch and pine soon turn to shrub
and the snow begins in a line
covering rocks on my path
that crunch and roll where I stand
reminding me not to fall
I’m inside out and underdressed
wind chills my head and hands
grateful for distraction
from the tightness in my chest
and the numbness between breaths
I focus on the white peak
coming close to meet me
a cool, quiet space
I want to sink in this place
for winter and maybe more
let my heart and breath slow
while I freeze like the rest
I want to know what it’s like
to wake up
another time in spring
and try again.
Coming Soon…
Donkeys in the Olive Grove
and then the way became clear the donkeys in the olive grove had beckoned them here
