You can feel it in your body--
just where are your feet?
Your center has shifted,
pulled forward and down,
like moving against wind
or knee-high water.
Walking is too much work,
so you sit and watch
the gull's crumpled-airplane-angle
toward pond, the heron's
spear-tipped tranquility,
and the turtles--
how they poke from domes
of horn, their deliberate
lives quickened by an
almost summer star.
just where are your feet?
Your center has shifted,
pulled forward and down,
like moving against wind
or knee-high water.
Walking is too much work,
so you sit and watch
the gull's crumpled-airplane-angle
toward pond, the heron's
spear-tipped tranquility,
and the turtles--
how they poke from domes
of horn, their deliberate
lives quickened by an
almost summer star.
Elena, you are consistently attentive to the small quiet things that matter so much more than the large loud things! Your poetry is steeped in gratitude, and it, in turn, inspires gratitude in us, your readers (for whom I make bold to speak!).
ReplyDeleteThank you.
Thanks, Tom! I think I often resort to studying the small things because the "large loud things" overwhelm. They give me static in the brain--ha!
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