Within a Moment

Washington Island, Door County

I come back
to crickets
to find a light shimmering and liquid
to the fading of clouds.


photo by E

Waiting

Assured that it will come
perfumed like lavender in passing
or on gusts of a salty wind
I wait
unfolded, beyond time
in the midst of the drone of crickets.


photo by E

Queen Anne's Lace

I saw them along the road, singly, or in sparse groupings, the sight infrequent enough to form afresh the image  -each time it appeared- of a cupola, of fragile little blooms that scattered at the wisp of a breeze.

But what were they called?  In my mind, at that moment, was a lacuna that once held the verbal equivalence of this flower.  I combed through the remaining crannies, pulling out words that attempted to approximate: lilies of the valley, hydrangeas..., only to toss them aside, one by one.

When the missing words returned, restored to their proper places, what was real became more so.

At Home

The clink of a teacup jars me into gratitude.

In Summer

Carried by the sway of deep summer green
I follow the leaves
as with each breath a thought is held
then released
gossamer and enduring.

Here

It is the same
light streaming in
even if it leaves just for a moment
while I remain on this side of the window.