I scuttle a cedar-spiced path
at the Refuge, more than a little wild,
scuffling leaves
where crisp breezes hula rose hips
and snowberries bead bushes,
imagining plover, goose,
and warbler engines
fueling migrations south,
as maples unclasp
autumn fashions, strip
leaf after leaf
to slither and glide
down trunk and limbs,
exposing intimations
of what the future holds.
In bird chatter though,
I hear no dire portents
even as my inner ear corrupts
balance, the way of the upright
I thought I’d mastered:
occasionally I lurch sideways
like a coot with a tired body
hell-bent on staying vertical
until it’s time to rise heavenward.
Carol Sunde, born and raised in Iowa, now lives in the fishing-tourist village of Westport, WA and loves being in the PNW. Since retiring from a college counseling position (her degree is an Social Work), she’s been exploring a life-long interest in poetry. Her work has been most recently published in Raven Chronicles and Passager.
