ELIZABETH RYLAND MEARS

Morning

Cold air pools in the hollow, as steam blankets rooftops
yellowed by glow of sun on the rise.
Wild turkey emerge like specters in a dream
then disappear in the fog shrouded tree line.
Man and Woman stir from their sleep world
and touch, or not.

Spider lace carpets dewy meadow grass, and fox
dart from the unwelcome sound of footsteps on gravel.
Deer hiss and bound across open space
to the refuge of brush and bough.
She walks sure footed, jelly muscles moving forward,
through revelations of the waking world.

Rushing water in a swollen stream
breaks through chance dams of wind littered limbs,
While live air sizzles, fried droplets
a testament to need for electron juice,

Wandering geese honk and glide
above stones heaved from Earth's frozen depths,
And rhythm of woodpecker on hollow tree drum
echoes through leafy camouflage to waiting ear.

Screeching hawk and darting crow airdance
above asphalt cracked by attack from the great forces.

She gives thanks for a journey well traveled
And a time and space beyond knowing.

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