Friday, August 23, 2013

An Acorn Drops in the Dust

The way dust settles
After an acorn falls from above

The way the sweet scent of sugar from the coffee
Lays upon the mind

The bite of acid on the tongue
From the wild grape gardens draping towards the shade

The trickle of the stream
Through the willows

The way river smoothed granite
Grips the fingertips

The wisp and swoosh of silence
Through the grass

The feeling of structure from the scent of cedar
Baking in the heat of summer

The tug of the pack strap against
The shoulder ascending a hillside

The scratch of crumbling granite
Under the boot

The way the brook trout hang in the
Slow roll of the shallow sanded creek

The silence of dragonflys
Hovering over the water

The give and pull of the axe
As it bites into the log laid upon the earth

The sweep of the honed blade
Through layers and fibers

The scent of woodsmoke
From the lakeside campfire

The way these memories blow across
My windswept mind and settle on the surface

The way the dust builds up in
Layers making a soft earthy bed for acorns

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