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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