My Heart Slows Writing This

for Charles Van Vooren

Lived truths nature incapable of comprehending.
Forged self against uncompromising,
isolated environment.
What sang between heart,
long silent field hours?
Same air breathed?

Were rewards of dreams
knowledge you had them?
Initials carved in barn’s hickory floor?

Brittle tree brances, few leaves,
remaining wrinkled berries
Hard cow dung.

Woodchucks, raccoons, slinking fox,
scarce stars.
How many crickets are heard?

Pioneer Pine    Weeping Ash    Spirit Oak

from Lef. Copyright © James Humphrey Trust.


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