Plotting a memory

I lay on the grass thick with summer.
I watched the wall of trees lush
and dark with sun shadows. I stared
hard so to emblazon the green
on my sight, to have the memory in March
when they are naked, to not forget
what they can become again.

the nap

I lay on the grass thick with summer.

After turning a few pages,
I let go into the sleep that came
up from the Earth, dark
and full of people.

I surfaced for a moment,
roused by my own snore,

then plunged again
into darkness of dreams…

gone as it were

until
I came paddling out
softly, refreshed,
back to the sun
and the tree line.

Advertisements