Between the Morning Trees, You’ll Find It


I try to try harder. To look under
Heavier rocks and inside murkier
Metaphors. But the grey of morning
Lifted her head and said: oh for
Heaven’s sake, sweetie
. Stop trying to
Interchange my mountains and
Molehills. Instead just have a look
Between the morning trees and

You’ll find it:
It’s there, if only you move your
Head a just bit. There. A tongue of red
Cloud in the summer sky. Listen:
Even the birds have stopped
Chattering and turned to look.

Don’t try so hard, she said, and you’ll find
Joy everywhere you go, in every
Sliver of the day, if only you move
Your head just a bit.

2 Comments

  1. Mary

    Love, love, love your writing! Are you sure we are related, because I have none of those beautiful thoughts? I am glad I can live through yours….

    1. Hmmmm… maybe you have them, but don’t notice. It’s work to notice these sorts of things! I love you!

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