in the evening's golden surprise
between showers, cloudscapes, snowmelt gurgling
the light was long and
there was a reminder that this walk
is now mine alone.
there was a trickster surprise on the roadside, too
left by a border collie with a sense of humor,
not a print, something more present
than absent.
but,
then the geese surprised me
quieter than in fall, but in huge flocks.
later
i went out to listen, flushed a white tail,
but didn't hear
woodcock, peepers.
yet.
breathless, speechless, flooded with the light the golden rosy light, and the flocks returning...Oh. Ah.
ReplyDeletegolden sunlight is so enchanting.
ReplyDeletems and neki, that light was solid like gold and lasted just minutes before it morphed. it was long angled golden amazement, here, then poof! late winter, again.
ReplyDeleteVelma, such poetry you see and feel when the awareness of the absence of a presence you've known so long must make you feel like someone else, or yourself in another landscape.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully done, as always.
I love the golden light. It must seem so strange to be walking without the trickster Wendy, and good to be reminded of her and her constancy.
ReplyDeleteGreat light photo - and shadows - love the balls of color around the sun, too!
ReplyDeleteoh this warms me
ReplyDeletefaisal, yes, indeed
ReplyDeletemarilla, she was a trickster (that last sign on the roadside) but mostly she took care of me.
valerie, that light lastes just minutes!
jude, it was a lovely, lonely walk
wendy is forever in that walk. missing her terribly.
ReplyDeleteoh, darling.
ReplyDeletethat golden glow holds the warmth of friendship and love.
ReplyDeletejean, you seem to hold some of that glow yourself. thank you.
ReplyDeletethat liquid sun photo mesmerized me; while the words of the post drew a tear and left me with no proper words.
ReplyDeleteOh my...that long golden light. wow
ReplyDeleteMade me think of Robert Frost's words:
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
jan, no proper words are ok.
ReplyDeletenancy, it's a good poem. the light was good, too