Tag: quiet

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

the afternoon after

the afternoon after arranges itself – black limbs, off-white shroud, the dark of the damp on the interrupted grain of the bench end where I’ve settled for solitude, for seeking the green among the gray the afternoon after © Sarah Whiteley

gone to blue

should they ask,

I have gone to blue,
I have gone to green stillnesses,
to the bright-lipped lake
where the reeds still recall

that the wanting is often
greater than ever the having,
and that some days the rift
is only the start
of a different-directioned journey

so should they ask,

I have gone back,
back to the tranquilities,
back to the waters as they were,
and as they may someday be

tell them I have gone to blue

© Sarah Whiteley

November morning

morning blushes
when she realizes where she is

and the moon
still alight travels through her

down the hill
toward its own reflection

an early crow
sitting on the tip of the pine

scolds them both
for tarrying

© Sarah Whiteley