She stopped by for a visit --
swam across the channel,
meandered down the beach,
and sauntered over
to nibble at the plum tree.
She brought a friend
who was a bit more shy,
but she was not,
and stood and stared,
her glance direct and confident,
neither threatening
nor threatened.
I am here, and so are you:
I will trust you
if you'll trust me.
There were, I thought,
no questions she could ask
that I hadn't already asked myself --
and yet, the wonder still remains:
what is the purpose of this visit?
Not hers, I mean, but mine...
* * *
2 comments:
Ah that purpose thingy.
Hers is, I'm sure, just to be...
I love the poem.
and the photo is precious.
Oh, and the lawn chair -- original and pretty cool! (I'm not stupid enough to say cute and creative!)
Wonderful!
Post a Comment