A July Poem


Sometimes, when the body is exhausted,
everything else seems more alive,
the smallest breeze awakens pores;

ears hear what is normally not heard,
and consciousness roams like an errant child
towards a nearby meadow after this morning’s deer.

Sometimes, when there is nothing more
to say or do, a vast field spills from my head
as if to receive native seeds–

California poppies,
lupine, hummingbird sage
and monkey flowers.

Sometimes, content not to go anywhere,
long trails unfold, and my feet tingle with heat
as if engaged on a hike into the unknown;

then, past, present and future collide
as though on holiday.




(c)Gudrun Mouw
July 4, 2015

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