Friday, March 3, 2017


The contrary March winds
from the home harbor on the sea
  moves our boats
 constantly shimmering
in the sunshine
and floating upon its  arrival
into the docks from the city
as you wake up
from  a river nap
feeling this sense of relief
after a bog turtle rescue
with a yearning for survival
temporarily restoring your belief
yet discovering
a shadow tumbles on leaves
which suddenly snaps
at the foot of the  Oak tree
 takes a stone
and delivers it along
the  outer banks
as a poet cuts
across the meadow
into the sun's golden dome
of an early revival of spring
his guitar begins to sing
a jazz riff in a cadenza
of a Spanish tune
under the laps of an Elm
it is an hour of a spring reunion
as the dawn vanishes soon
watching its revealing day
of nature's power at home
and feeling overwhelmed.

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