Telling: Streams & Logs


still waking

the aspen is still
and I am waiting 

small birds cross the blue
and are gone 

larger birds rise
from ground to branch
catching light 

as I sit here waking
yesterday pours through me
laughing and waving
blowing one last kiss
and then another 

I couldn't say what it is
I am waiting for 

the breath of the leaves
when there is no breeze