On Inspiration

Donna Watson donnawatsonart.blogspot.com

Donna Watson

I could feel them
more than see them
as I was pulling weeds
under the blueberry bush
Something live watching me
just beyond my periphery
but soon as I focused
they flew away off
into the lilac tree

It is the season
when living things
despise seeing shadows
waking from their winter
still so shy in gowns of silk
flung over thin shoulders
so vulnerable to daylight
to human eyesight
heaven’s beings

Where they’d been
I stooped to pick up
a handful of silver pods
fallen blossoms of the fall
under dry nasturtium vines
these little gifts from God
from whom all blessings
from past to future
flow unfailingly

“A poem comes looking for me rather than I hunting after it.” ~ Richard Wilbur


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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