“These I have loved”
sitting in the shade of an old oak tree
swinging on its branches
watching a tiny bird on the edge of the nest, scared to fly
unfurling leaves in spring
summer feathery fronds of pampas grass
bare feet on brown packed dirt roads
golden swirling prairie grass
secret path in white birch halls
children splashing in a puddle
the smell of steam after a rain on hot streets
sniffing a rose bush
scent of fresh cut grass
watching busy dragonflies
large hollyhock blooms weaving on sturdy stems
autumn leaves on stretching maple trees
sunsets that make you weep
colorful distant mountain forests
brown crunching leaves underfoot
sharp icicles decorating eaves
first snow on your tongue
white heavy flakes quick to pile
frozen puddles to crack
Jack Frost designs on windows
“all these I have loved”.
***
Poetics: The Great Lover
The Bag Lady 