1/22 Madison
1/22 Madison
Dear Ones, home, moving slow,
none of the day's routines
familiar now, so many choices,
crowding in - plants to water,
cat to stroke, clamor of mail,
work, friends - as I sit
at the kitchen table, cat
on my lap, the red of cardinal
returns to the feeder, snow
begins falling, bringing back
memory of the ring of mountains,
setting moon hanging over the sun,
the day of singing and dancing
to the voice of the drum. I let
the rhythms shape the day, moving
in two landscapes now.
