Blue Morning

At home, in wood, pine and oak Cedar bleeding into maple Light through the branch A crown of sun upon my head The weed is broken on trodden path The march of foot to freedom A honey suckle of breath Sweet, wildflower sweet The wind of morning with gentle sway Cradles the fall of tender leaf Listen: I catch the buzz of the dragonfly The water still and shining A hawk soars through the trees A slow and steady glide of wisdom An eye above to see below The hills rolling into meadow… ~ Laurence Overmire (Previously published in Avocet, Spring 2000; Timber Creek Review, Vol.13, No.1, Spring 2007)