Out in the FIELD
Round ABOUT the PORCH
Under the snow
The worms burrow deep

Their WORMY ways
WORRY me not
I bless their slumber
Their winter naps

My partners in the garden

Georg’ann

Walking this well worn path,
I know it with my eyes closed
curves, ruts, roots, moss covered rocks, the bend that overlooks the ridge then turns back toward a meadow
Familiar as she is, there is something new in each step
This morning as I exited the woods,
moving toward the marshy inlet
I saw an egret land
White GRACE in motion
A cloud descending into the rising mist
Delicate long legs that conjure memory of a STORK I made in art glass years ago.
My walk continues along the BOURN
content, out here I let go all WORRY

Heather