Suwannee Refuge

February 02, 2012  •  Leave a Comment

Early, and the day begins to breathe

on blushing clouds,

sighing on a thousand tiny webs

glittering in the wet air.

 

Hungry to vanish in tall grass

and muddy track,

I ease into the presence of the woods,

deep and complete.

 

On the creek, I fade

into sand, sedge and water,

rising clean

in the sanctuary of the morning.

 

One small owl,

veiled in cinnamon shadows

watches, motionless and alert.

I look away to settle him.

 

Dark places lament an unfaithful sun,

ancient trees gone sharp and gray.

Defeated flowers

remember curtains of green

 

Cold, I whisper to myself for company.

My voice

and the last of the withered leaves fall

to stillness.

 

Barbara Woodmansee

February 2012



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