Out Like a Lamb

In a Favorite Forest

This waterfall reward at the end of my hike;
golden pyrite piled yesterday, or long ago

ever-changing shadow shapes across a log
my blue hobo bag adding color to the woods

streams diverge and once again join fingers
half-circle stages scooped away by a glacier

my own long hands placing rocks upon piles
materials for nature art abound around me

twigs twisted by time, or kept arrow straight
last year's leaves meet those who fell today

acorns left by squirrels who can't carry more
a button, I imagine fallen from a child's coat

the sun peeks through or, hiding, shies away
fine spider webs where spinners sit and listen

and then, surprising me to step around a bend,
a doe who sees my form and, captivated, stays.


note ▼

List poem w/no repetition—write a list of things where the title signals what it’s a list of (Example: My Lovers, Things I Wish I’d Said to My Father, Visible at Dusk, etc.)