Feel the end of me,
terror fading to light pain
before the sun dies.
dragonflies fretted
and blue-red birds flashed grey squirrels
like go go dancers
it was all too much
with chirping morning rhythms
and the dappling sun
languid blinks catching
steam off a morning bird’s wing
awake in August
a triad
it was as quiet
a place where she gave her heart
as when leaves rested
alone but for sighs
of wind caressing water
and a soft birdsong
taken by a surge
deeply divined below earth
she poured herself free
bared skin in summer
dancing trees embrace the sun
taste the rushing wind
The Word Rummager 