Xenia 
 Ash
grove 
Birch
grove 
Riverbed
frozen deep with snow 
 Brewing
tea 
Winchester
leaning Against a boulder 
 The
deer, doe and daughter, 
 approach
first 
Not
timid but curious 
 Ravens
fly in a pairs through the smoke 
 Foxes
disappearing in the pines 
 
Drink
the steamy tea 
Time
to go back 
 Xenia
opens the back door.
 “I
saw you come down from the road,” she said, “like a big orange bear. 
Take
off your boots and have some soup.” 
Whippoorwill 
 sat
in the evening light with my tea,
 heard
a whippoorwill through the open door, 
way
off in the desert. 
 Used
to spend this time in the hard middle 
 But
that scene is done. 
Now
I listen to the bird. 
 If
you close your eyes, You can hear it 
John Harold Olson - Is a retired Special Education teacher in Las Vegas. Transitioning to being a hospice volunteer.


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