Endure

 I want to

Be pretty. 

I want to be 

Aware when peace descends 

In the midst of chaos 

I want to be my golden center 

In the palate of my landscape.

The further my eyes search 

Towards what I guess I 

Somewhere let go of, 

The calmer I am

Though

I may be going blind 

Probably just one eye.

This turns into a diary

Which it is not.

Sky, internal horizon, order and 

Balance

And I don’t much care to make too

Much effort anymore. 

Rain is endless, though.

I never thought I’d curse the 

Water

It’s a richness in a new iteration 

For me to integrate this 

Fallow ground into 

Its reason, as 

The less I go out looking for it the more it is what I want 

Raining

Pink begonias on porches here 

Waiting late spring’s summering, as 

Recalcitrant weather seeks to find balance.

At the pond, reassurance of 

Bullfrogs sounding basso & profundo; 

I see small brown hoppy toads, but 

I am frustrated because I can’t mow,

So I ruminate on paths, perhaps, and patches

Where wilding things persist, noticing 

A new way of being in to and of this place 

This property, out in that far pasture

Hawthorne and pear. 

Long the twilight to the southwest 

I listen to old prompts

From landscape and memory, 

When light dimmed before my prairie sense said it should

When night comes on before

My prairies senses say

It may, and behold 

The most intense pure 

Blue, no brilliance but the shadow

Just before the night comes in 

In the leaving to the west. 

Last Thing on My Mind

 https://youtu.be/KaRwthlUI-w