summer found me
From “my startled heart”:
Summer found me sitting on a log,
ruffled by the afternoon westerlies,
at the edge of a eucalyptus forest,
the trees speaking
among themselves, in braille,
rubbing shoulders.
Me all silent,
stupefied,
blown out with thinking.
Some lullabye from
far over there, beyond
and through
the stripping bark.
Something nearly remembered,
music to a kid’s ears,
calling out questions.
The big, big questions.
Dumb old me,
clueless like always,
which isn’t so bad,
still digging the sun.
I wonder if this breeze
has come to carry me away,
maybe connect me
to this bluebird day,
where someone reminded
the clouds
to easy does it.
Advice I could stand,
Over and over.
And over.
Sitting on this log
for hours
making up stories about this life.
This whole life.
Far off there’s a dell,
and the soft, sweet sound
of a lazy cow, a
lady’s choice lovely
lost in the wonder
of a three-course meal –
again and again,
running up a tab
at her farmer’s expense.
Lost in wonder of
what a cud-world it is.
Lost in wonder at the way
it all works.
Lost in wonder at the color green.
Lost in wonder
about the habits of people.
People like me,
sitting on a log
ruffled by the wind,
saturated, and satiated,
with a sunny summer’s day.
Through and through,
again and again.
Dumbfounded here within
this forest’s conversation
With itself.
And with that girl
in the glen,
chewing her grass in
that faraway dell,
which is farther
than I can see –
even –
on my best days.
Yeah, it’s just me.
Silly little braille boy.
Feeling everything.
Discovered by the woods
one summer’s day.