...the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life...

Sunday, March 26, 2017

21. Lush Spring

Some trails were tunnels of branches.
I used a shirt dipped in water to wipe

from my limbs poison oak oil.
We saw a frog beside the creek.

You nearly stepped on it.
We heard others as we walked,

a good sign. No poppies,
but small-petaled purple-blue flowers,

folded in on themselves,
and five-petaled lavender ones,

on vining greenery. A big bush,
almost like a tree, in full blossom.

You are as tall almost as me.
You were once here on my back

like that baby we passed in the sling
on the woman, she as young at least

as I was then. Several creek crossings:
Unsteady rocks, wet shoes.

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