Thursday, July 28, 2011

Footfalls

He used to walk the property at dusk;
now I do, too—not because he did,

but because I understand why. He
walked around the barnyard, observing,

checking things that mattered: his horses
in their stalls, a piece of siding missing

from the barn, the size of the hay supply,
water levels in the horses’ tanks, old tractor

in its bay, the horse trailer, the trucks.
I walk the front yard, seeing what is there:

the rose transplanted yesterday, another
planted days before, progress of the weeds,

soil softened by chipmunks, entrance
of the first iris buds, a bumblebee at rest,

the youngest cat stalking blades of grass
in the last light, unwilling to let the day go.

12 comments:

Eulalia (Lali) Benejam Cobb said...

Beautiful, Susan. Thank you.

Indigo Bunting said...

Lovely. Sigh.

Dolores said...

Beautiful, Susan.
Hauntingly descriptive - I felt as if I were walking with you and seeing what you saw...

Dolores

Susan said...

Thank you. I wrote this a few springs ago. Now here we are with this year's spring behind us. Hard to believe it's August already.

crystal said...

It is beautiful. I thought you just wrote it ... "the youngest cat" :)

Susan said...

Crystal, thank you. That was Pogo. The current "youngest cat" isn't allowed out among the blades of grass. :-)

Dona said...

Breathtaking!

Susan said...

Thanks, Dona!

Helen said...

I love it Susan.

I also like your new photo...

Owl on Ewe said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Susan said...

Thanks, Helen. I was having a good hair day for a change. (When I took the picture, not when I wrote the poem.) :-)

Deloney said...

Really lovely, Suze. Most of us were blogging less (because of effing Facebook) so I stopped checking your blog very often. I'm out of Facebook now. It's an evil cult! But I'm blogging again. :-)

I read your post about that drug. I'm starting to have a great deal of sympathy for people who worry about "Big Pharma." --love to you as always