Bits of green from the mouths of donkeys and sheep
leaves from the apple tree
All summer I rescued drowning insects from the water bucket
lifting them with my fingertip or a leaf
Now the water is cool
there are no bugs floating on its surface
or drowning in its depths
At dawn, when I turned over in bed and looked out the closed kneeling window, the light on the pasture tricked me
My mind said snow
That’s me
adjusting to the longer nights, overcast days, layers of clothes
Soon I’ll plug the water bucket in to keep it from freezing
and the bare branches of the apple tree will be reflected in it.
Wow! Looks like a piece of art on a museum wall.
Ah, thanks Lois.
having a hard time with the dark early mornings
still barefoot and in tank top and shorts
but with a fleece jacket added
new to have fallen leaves on my front steps
even the goldenrod has faded
nature is closing up shop
I need to be open to that
Long night poems. Thanks for yours Sharon. It’s an adjustment.
sorry I wrote it like poetry
It is poetry.
when it appeared in the to be moderated box, the lines ran together. now I know for the future