March 10, 2026
5 through 8
-5- walking on a warm afternoon, the muddy path stickier, slicker, blacker than the puddle in my vegetable garden smelling of old wood and fungi dragonflies everywhere one hovered–still, bright, holding the air sun glint through its wings -6- driving the back way to town passing last year’s corn and snowbanks nearly gone reveal a deer not seen for months slowing the car to watch two large vultures rising and settling – rising and settling -7- the old building never quite lost the smell of the last flood serving breakfast for years floors walk up or down, never level coffee in the air friends, acquaintances, strangers the place is full I will be soon -8- sounds of the day pressing in— traffic rolling machines humming voices carrying across yards the trees sounded different leaves dry from weeks without rain the air itself had an edge a hummingbird arrived wings nothing but a blur, its hum hanging in the air watching it drink and vanish as quickly as it came
Love it! Nice to read your words again after a long spell.