Sunday, October 5, 2008

Imagine yourself in the picture on the heading


Leona Choy

Crisp, frosty mornings cycle again

in a season of reflection, pensive nostalgia

granting me permission

to stroll the back roads of my mind

while wading ankle-deep in the pain-splashed carpet

kicking up waves of oak and hickory leaves

inhaling the musty mulch beneath my feet

while munching the wet crunch

and tart taste of a freshly-picked Jonathan.

Here I can smell peace, forget schedules

concentrate on important things

like scampering squirrels

scurrying to stash acorns for winter larder.

I filter out all but the traffic noise

of wing-flapping, honking geese

heading South in the fast lane

while I take the exit ramp

to a blue line country lane

deliberately dragging my feet

trying to slow down my speeding life

that always seems to be

running a marathon ahead of me.


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