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A poem for July: Walk


Walk

The dusk smells like summer

bugs in the weeds

and I walk and walk hard against the

thunderhead flickering

like a Chinese lantern while a

star picks up the night.

The heat’s still in the earth beneath my

shoes and another star picks up the

night while low wind’s breath rattles the

bugs in the weeds and I

walk and walk hard against the

thunderhead squatting on the river in a

swell of Chinese lantern light.

I smell summer rising in the

weeds and in the dirt beneath my

shoes as I go undetected

silent as an Osage hard after an

end to his trail.

And I walk

and walk hard as phantoms fly from the

understory, wings in my

hair, beating eternity with webs and

wings.

The dusk smells like summer, locusts, and

weeds, yet all that goes on in the busy

night does not chase the dark form coiled at

my heel and I walk and walk

hard until the thunderhead rains the

river and I’ll still not outlast the coiled

form laying prey for my contentment.

Copyright 2017 RC

#naturephotographyblog #hiking #photographyblog #poetry

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Roxanna Cummings

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