|
Once again I
walk through dry leaves
up the hill in
back of the house,
only this time
there is a trail I opened
and lined with
a curbing of branches,
and this time
I am wearing brand new boots
with silver
hooks for the laces.
The dog falls
behind or runs up ahead—
acolyte or
scout—
and when we
reach the crest
I sit down
lightly on the tonnage of a rock
and do not
leave to go back down
until I have
monitored the progress of a squirrel,
removed the
caps from several acorns,
and examined
the grey-green of the lichen.
I wonder if
this is what they mean by seize the day? |