Garden Shorts
The Morgue File
1.
beetles know their way home
ground into blurry lines of movement
my eyes follow their tracks
2.
i flutter
in the still afternoon
awash in color
unseen
3.
burrow
until i cannot see the sun
home
again
4.
old bones
find sun first
as warmth
trickles into
sinovial fluid
copyright/all rights reserved. Audrey Howitt 2015
It is a month of weddings, graduations,birthdays, listened.and recitals in our family. I sat in my garden today and listened.
Sinovial fluid. Maybe that is what is wrong with my knees. Ha. Or perhaps I am just getting old. It is good to find that warmth though. Flutter on, no need to worry about notice, it will come or it wont. Ha. I listened to the grass drying this morning. You could hear the blades separating if you were real quiet.
ReplyDeletei flutter
ReplyDeletein the still afternoon
awash in color
unseen
I can not describe how beautiful this poem is..! Its sheer perfection :D
Lots of love,
Sanaa
A beautifully rendered evocation of the peaceful joy to be found in simplicity.
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful message from a talented poet. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteA wonderful moment captured - peace in the midst of so much activity.
ReplyDelete