In The Warm Cold Sun

MFWA 2.19

I’m reaching for it
But not quite there
Might need to move
Finding and following the sun
Which cannot sit long enough in one spot
To mystify the condensed dew drops

I will relocate
Like a migratory songbird
Chasing a tune
All over the hemisphere

I settle in the trees and write again
In a draft shafting bright
Striking a path between
Two trunks of evergreen

I need to move again, now

It’s cold out
But it’s warm in the sun
At least twenty trees may be
In the path of the sun shaft’s progress
But they cannot stop
The sun’s direct infiltration inside my eyeballs

The window’s open a little bit more
Not much, but
Again I move chasing sunspots
It feels like I am in the trees
For no reason
Yet I am gathering this all down on paper
For the season

The pine needles the yellow and green leaves
The Hemlock the Cedar
Fern moss and broken branches who reached too far
Stumps, pine cones and red, red leaves

This time the sun sits with me
For a comparatively longer time
Patiently waiting through the glare
While I deposit words in my wordbank
While I fill my tank
Chasing the sunspots amongst the trees
In the cold, warm sun
No breeze


sf MFWA @7375

For the trees


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