November Poem


Looking at sunlight, east of the ash tree
and west of an oak forest that writes
the history of this valley/canyon. Will deer hop
out of today’s bright page? Where is coyote?

I remember how the bobcat killed
a gopher as it destroyed
my last butterfly bush; he came
when he heard my wail, rushed like wind past me,
and demolished the culprit. I did not ask for that.

If I had been quiet, one more creature
would have lived. Now, an imprint
of light and shadow holds the landscape
between past and future.

Gudrun Mouw (c)
November, 2018

One Comment

  1. Cathy said:

    Wow, what a gift. What a blessing that beauty continues to do that, gently tilt your head back as your heart fills, thing. Constant thanks, beloved one.

    December 15, 2018

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