Field Note
a new poem
Field Note
Lilacs, chlorine, manure.
I walk through the coiled scent,
headless, a figment of early summer.
In the white and yellow wildflowers
bunched beside Fish Creek—
quick water hissing over rough stone slabs—
no thought churns. Like the dragonfly
leaving a blue streak
suspended in its wake, I’m nothing
but a raw nerve receiving a world.
Lilacs to manure. Coiled scent. Headless. Blue streak. Ah! Thank you Joseph. Tugged my brain-heart back in the right direction
Beautiful! Really loved this one