Today is a tiny girl

in a dress half deep with velvet,

her finger twirling a curl of fine brown hair,

staring off fixedly

in the opposite direction from her big family.

Today is walking along with dragonfly

while a frog sings across the ravine

and buck, broad with his own velvet,

grazes in new season antlers

through ponderosa sweetened midday sun.

It’s a sticking point in the neck,

a filling of time,

the nectar-drip of writings so rich

two pages fill me up and stir until

I’m unable to sit still–

such beauty must be moved.

Familiar faces in the coffee shop

belong to no one I know.

Summer days of blueberries and salmon,

liquid shadows in the breeze,

heat layering in the cradle of this valley,

magnolia blossoms

and wondering, in tolerable doses,

what could possibly be next?