You Seem to Ease Right into Your Writing

At the Waukesha Field Station 6/21/21

If I begin by drawing
weeds, their leaves, the spot
of yellowed brown, a spent dandelion,
something awakens. A word
a sprout of a word, rough and green, rises
like a fine blade of grass—
……… you, too, may have felt this thin,
……….this little, this intricately little—an ant
following the scent of another in procession
over the uneven terrain, over
the weathered Adirondack chair
scaly with moss, bird droppings, lichen,
going for crumbs of bread and the sweet residue
of what was once hot chocolate
in an abandoned paper cup.
……….And you, too, may have felt that giddy,
……….that great, when what you hoped for
without foreseeing came step by hesitant
step into being.

Photo by Alex Diffor on Unsplash