The View: Sept 3
The View: Tues Sept 3rd
Hot, rough, pink stone
Warmth beneath my left foot,
as the right
Dangles wildly above it.
Left; flat souled, drawing down deeper into
Sun warmed flagstone, soaking up the day
Right: flitters about in an
Invisible, unheard, rhythm
tapping through it
Casting shadow puppets chaotically across the patio
The waning sunlight their director.
Look Up
The green flowing contours of my view
A slow motioned flux of
Peaks, valleys and clouds
Still sunlit
depths slowly growing cooler on my exposed warm skin
The rich forest green, spotlit and glowing
Now a deep emerald, the color of a stormy Irish Sea
The suns casting its magic upon us
As a painter with a brush
The valleys’ corners are gleaning now
Red adirondack chairs ,
the perch, the vantage, the place of witness,
sacred spaces
Casting my shoulders back
by design
Ever so easily affording the cross of the knees
Right foot over left
Air over ground
Flight over anchor
Time for a sweatshirt.