Friday, March 18, 2011

at lake Ray Roberts

in a half asleep state
i hear and feel the wind
against the taut tent fabric
it ripples and sways slightly with the gusts
leaves picked from tree limbs
or the forest floor
occasionally pitter-pattering upon the rain fly
i am concerned there may be rain
through the fabric
i can see a hint of moonlight though
and i am reassured that the clouds
hold no moisture
the air is crisp and cool
refreshing to breathe in
a rejuvenating elixir offering relief to my lungs
filled with the city
in and out of slumber i drift
interrupted by the night sounds
i am no longer used to
in the dim of morning
a chickadee sings nearby
a cardinal lends his voice
and an unfamiliar trill
greet me with the joy of a new day
i lay quietly and listen to their song
coming to me on the still blowing wind

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