Like Words Together Reflections from the deep end of Practice.


Wetlands Evening

Today is National Poetry Day, which I find a little odd since Poetry Month, April, is nearly here. Without looking too much into it, I've decided I'll participate in both. I'm hoping to start up my annual spring challenge of 30 - poems - in - 30 - days, next month to celebrate the whole month.

I also finally watched the OPB broadcast about William Stafford, which inspired me to write something simple to honor all the poets who have meant so much to me today.

Wetlands Evening

I gaze westward into the
Golden light of the late afternoon.
Smiling to see the geese
Setting up home in the grasses.
The sunlight streams in sideways,
Glimmering and glowing in the water.e sime
Twilight is falling.

Later, darkness has fallen and I
No longer see the wet, brackish water,
But I hear the gentle honking of the geese,
Settling into sleep, and the symphony of
Frogs, hundreds of them, thousands perhaps.
I slow my pace home to linger and listen.

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