June 2022

Timeless Stories

Preview Image: 
I hear only whispers—instructions,
           streams of information—
understandable on some level,
only the words are yet unformed.
 
On my walk to the Lake, I crave names.        
Tamarack.       Ovenbird.        Winterberry.  
Corona Borealis.          Songs drift
from bellies of stones.
Some ask to be picked up and rubbed;
others prefer to nest in roots.