In the morning: sunlight.
I go out to the slope of hill
where grass meets wood
and listen for a long time
to let rain drip from the tall trees –
Beneath the cedar:
everything that comes up again with the snowmelt –
unsettled root and stone,
the slowness in earth –
the way one color pushes through another.
Where the light comes in the forest at this angle:
sparkle and dew –
Words and image by Sarah Rehfeldt. Please do not copy without my permission.
Poem and image are published in Eunoia Review (June 2015); reprinted in Written River Journal of Eco-Poetics, issue 10 (2016).