There we were at the beginning of the world
A forest
redwood
bay laurel
A watercourse chiseled
into the limestone of that ridge
opening outward
to the west and setting sun
We were almost under water
through miles, through layers of green
We sat together
listening
as the alto recorder in my hand
played on its own!
A tune that called
a mahogany-voiced bird
to harmonize
A tune
that gentled the sun into the sea.
A tune
that wove together
every instant
of the days we had yet to live
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 10:47 PM UTC
There we were at the beginning of the world
A forest
redwood
bay laurel
A watercourse chiseled
into the limestone of that ridge
opening outward
to the west and setting sun
We were almost under water
through miles, through layers of green
We sat together
listening
as the alto recorder in my hand
played on its own!
A tune that called
a mahogany-voiced bird
to harmonize
A tune
that gentled the sun into the sea.
A tune
that wove together
every instant
of the days we had yet to live
