alone, as thoughts and memories take flight
warmed by the late spring sun, air damp and buzzing with sounds from yesterday’s storms
reflecting on the meaning of these last weeks, and the years before, i am met with sensations that stir my waking soul
layers of sounds…fledglings pestering parents for a morsel, frogs far off…a lone bullfrog and a chorus of tree frogs seeking mates to continue on…the call of an owl in a tree across the pasture…the distant cry of a hawk circling high above
i hear the ripping sounds as a black cow slowly, determinedly tears at the fresh wetted grass…the soft satisfied grunts of a filly rolling in the hayfield
in the company of jasmine, visited with the balm of honeysuckle and wild onions, i close my eyes and breathe deep the life blooming around me
“…jasmine…bears the fragrance of freedom.” Harriet Jacobs, 1813-1897
©️ 2020
lingering son 