clouds mirror shadows,
a mirage of reflection;
opposites hide truths
drip, drip, drip in time,
paddling on rippled trees,
chasing dying light
How could in all my plodding of these streets,
I never noticed its presence before?
And never knew that by keeping my feet,
I was walking past Sanctuary’s door?
But today, up there on the old town road,
I came upon a sign, don’t know how new.
It called me down a path I never toed,
And without Moment’s pause, away I flew.
orange flavored streets,
a gift from the setting sun,
not a car in sight
underneath the reeds,
hidden there amongst the weeds,
a flower rises
when shifting the eyes,
shadows become harbingers
of the light ahead
the robins are back,
which can only mean one thing:
time to check the eaves
slide stones and current
knock our feet, making sure we
keep the game afoot
oh, these summer nights,
when plans and friendships are hatched,
no parents in sight
where moss clings frozen
the beech bark cannot escape;
trees must grow on trees
a mint-kissed falling concealed,
minutes from the field;
a world unseen, now revealed
the young red spirit
embarks the mountainous white,
casting new shadows
where sun comes and goes,
a fern shadow grows,
reaching, til light shifts away
puffed up, uncomfortable,
hooked by father time;
friends, this is forty
