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.

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