poem...

the journey

four wild turkeys
climbing up the hill,
crossing the damp pasture
and
disappearing into the
treeline
without
a
sound.

piles of clouds
pressing down
on top
of
this mountain.

a stream swelling
with
winter rain.

in the darkness,
ice crystals
crowding together
upon tilted blades of grass.

boot laces and
dogs breathing
warm
against
cold glass.

her face
frowning with
sweet worry.

gathering these
moments
and carefully packing
them away.

someday,

I'll
need
them.


cunningham
09