This grey morning, early,
Eyes open to a hillock
Covered in sage and gorse,
Small white succulents dotting
The dusty ground,
Mountain lupine faint purple in the
Coming end of summer,
The mountains immovable
Except of course they aren’t,
Glacial their changing, folly we
Think we see their constant.
Back down this western slope
Swaths of standing dead soon
Giving way to wildfire and in time
The aspen and an autumn
Gold of new.
All things must change.
Skittering and full of purpose,
Magpies glean the
Jutting uplift,
Black and white, their bands
Of iridescent midnight blue
Flicker in this new day’s light
Now blooming from the grey.
How to explain
A homeostasis lit by magpies and
Sturdy wildflowers?
No matter, it is gone to
Call of day, a pause unbidden,
A world contained and whole,
Gifted in the moment.
Gifted in the moment.
August 13, 2018
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