wall321.com
In the midst of July stride
post dawn, but a chance
to climb the hill
embracing wind & sun,
the heat will come in
later, veiling the skin.
I’m breathing in
the mown lawn,
frogs prayer in the morn,
woodpecker’s Morse code,
and moan of every leave
outstretched under my feet.
I keep within collected sighs,
a grid to recall and complete
my path as another life or
god’s caprice…
when time is ripe
and tired shadows
rest under the trees…
