Sunday, August 29, 2010

Forest Zen


His mother sits, waits
For him, the visiting son.
She's happy to wait.

Anywhere but there
Where she lives, is good to be.
Old one's common theme.

Sitting a third day
Undoes me. Spine gets cranky.
I stand, lean, and hope.

Husband sits in house
Visiting a friend. I stand.
His Mom waits in car.

Whose idea this? Hers.
I dream of no cars and quiet,
A calm birdsong place.

Waiting turns endless.
Undone, I look for elsewhere,
Cicada song place.

I stand in tree shade.
I write and wait. Small brown
Toto befriends me.

I coo to Toto.
I nuzzle his ears. He sniffs
My leg. Leaves. Returns.

This is Toto's place.
I listen to wind in leaves,
Practice forest Zen.

Toto wanders off.
I remain, pacing the drive,
Breezes soothing me.

His Mom sits and waits.
Toto's back! Camera ready,
I turn to Toto.

"Aren't you getting in?"
His mother asks. I step back,
Startled, say, "Not yet."

Toto ducks, backs off.
No photo for him! Lost now,
This moment is gone.

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