Tuesday, May 15, 2012

A Song of Place

I live where mountains
partition the sky
with softly rounded peaks,
and cheeks of clouds
that draw me up to stand
and stare as they change
from wisp to wild, crazed
and back again to mild.
 
I live where birds collect
and gather from the ground
dry seeds and sound
a quick alarm to warn
of threat; they cluster
and soar, thermals lifting
and dropping in heart
stopping flight paths.

I live among deep grasses
tipped silver in the spring light,
their richness a delight to herds
that graze across the hills
and raise their young
beside the road, a blaze of gold
in summer’s sun, and cavernous black
under starburst skies.


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