Friday, 17 July 2015

salt spring, first night

the green scented forest envelopes me in warm, evergreen arms
I sit here, sipping my glass of ahh, my boy asleep in the loft

the sounds are different from those at the lake a hundred feet below
luring me for a late stroll yet whispering to just walk in my mind

I agree that the comfort of my meadow blanket deserves more time
and wind down the city echoes in my bones, fingers and thoughts

a raven couple seems to bicker gently while a nearby branch snaps
and a docile deer mother with two younglings enters my eye window

my favourite camera is intentionally left at home and I'm good with that
because I ask this furry group a permission to enter their realm instead

I may borrow my sister's records as she indulges in her preferred joy
her digital speech is royal and becomes her quietness as she sips