roadside ditch blackberry brambles 
  reflect wet honeyed sunshine... 
a flash of inspiration. 
     a wistful mist clings, lingers 
to forever green firs, 
  blue spruce, 
and rusty autumn oak leaves, 
as if in tribute to night's memory, 
  while my breath hangs in front of me, 
a genie happy to be released 
    from its bottle of skin 
to ride a docile october wind. 
       it's one of those rare days 
     when the haze of depression 
has been shucked away 
by solar induced clarity
   sharpening all the edges
     around all the things
and every piece just seems
   to have a purpose.
the leaning, sunbleached
  fenceposts don't look quite
as broken down,
   the chickenwire strands
still stand and perform their function
     shadowed by a copse of
moss-scaled oak trees
  (and i remember
 that as long as i look for the moss
i can always find my direction again.)
    a kelly green oil drum on its
rickety wooden sawhorse
  near the wide aluminum gate
waiting to be opened...
   everything is alone
but today, nothing is lonely,
   it reassures me.
and as sunshine splashes and dashes
   upon the yellow racer road
   the hideaway feeling is exposed
      that simply being
  is enough reason to smile.

-- j sheridan fenn ca. 1997

Published by Jonah Sheridan Fenn

Nerd herder, word wrangler, working on the next chapter...

Leave a Reply