Tag: peace

last night, the trees

last night, the trees stood up
and proclaimed their poetry
to one another

something in the twilight
inspired them, though not everyone
paused to hear it

but I and the day’s last robin
halted our respective routines
to acknowledge what was clearly
extraordinary

© Sarah Whiteley

like the lake

like the lake, I am much less talkative
than say the creek cantering east,
teasing the low-hanging ferns to trembling

we lakes embrace rather than chase,
swallow whole those stones that settle
to long years of mute stillness

we are content with the stir and shift of winds,
with the lined glide of a pair of loons,
returning to the calm lull of a cat-tailed inlet

© Sarah Whiteley

after Livingston

that August in Livingston,
we meant just me
and the small dog tracing
the bends in the river
into the far edge of afternoon

one of us thinking of rolling
ourselves into the landscape
for keeps just for the peace,
the other enthralled
by sudden bursts of magpies

all these years after,
I never did find the right shade
to fade into and can’t shake
the sense of going the wrong
way against the river now

as if home had quietly
washed itself downstream
and settled on a sandbar –
lopsided and forsaken

© Sarah Whiteley

insomnia

craving stars, I crept down the crouching hallway, disturbing only moths seeking their own small allowance of light trees sleep, lowering their limbs by fractions as the day subsides, leaving only the incremental gestures of slumber I have had to explain often the peculiar edicts … Continue reading insomnia