i often think in walks and
in books as walks…
in books as walks…
these thoughts in particular,
were ignited by alisa golden…
maybe because i often walk in places that are deeply connected to land (not disconnected by concrete and asphalt) and are therefore punctuated by plants and animals and their relationships…at lunch a few minutes ago a porcupine made a zipper trail across my yard (from the woods behind the barn) to the arbor vitae near the road…that path is a tale of a limping sticky bear…what words does it think in, with?
what stories to tell?
what wisdom…or not
why take a journey across the plain of the yard
to the white cedar?
that trail is completely tell tale
and yet who, i ask you, who
is going to mess with this one?
a dog, probably, but what other yard visitor?
this one knows the way
to a penthouse lunch
and then home into brambly brush
and then
anywhere
