Breathe

I find the still and the quiet
although the quiet
really isn’t
–geese… robins… jays and starlings
— distant traffic… water… bees
— the breeze tickling my wind chimes
— the lazy sigh of the dog
the morning is full
of the music of life
and I
in the still of the morning
behind the anonymity hedges
hide
and find
that small still space
to breathe

Night

Green is as sharp and bitter
as the taste
And crunch
of a stink bug
Buried deep in the smooth
Sweetness
Of warm fresh blackberries
Covered in the crunch
Of Kelly Road dirt
It smells faintly
Of Queen Anne’s Lace
Skinned knees
And horse shit
It is as cold
As the stones
In the bottom of the spring
As hot and sweet
as the mows of hay
As unbelievably loud
As the spring
In Hamilton’s woods
And as silent
As the peepy frogs
In the pond
Below Helen’s

Together

We
sit
together
The grackle and me
Me with the cold wall
Beneath my feet, butt, knees
He
Small yellow eye
Shimmer of black coat
Peering furtively
Head tilt swivel tilt
On his one good leg
We
Sit and listen
To the waterfall
The wind chime
The traffic dance
And the beep slam grind
Of the parking garage behind
Together
We
sit
And spend
Our lunch
Just he and me
No fear
No stress
Reluctant companions
In the labyrinth of our lunchtime world
One belief breeze
He’s gone