In the end
the moment of change
is imperceptible.
and while I’ve been waiting
for the rain, anticipating
the return of the creek’s fine running
now it’s here I wish…
On the day of least light,
two cypress trees buffer the dark
and frame the rising sun.
On your own shortest days,
shadows long on the ground…
I’m tired of the promise of more,
and how it always makes me
feel less.
How much can one possibly need?
Alone is a mistake made early
but not one we’re doomed
to wake into each day…
I go to the earth,
to ground,
to lay down,
place down
all the things I cannot carry.