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
replaced
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
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