Hard to imagine...not
living at this consensual spot
rooted in rock-hatching soil
looking out my kitchen window
witness to long-farmed field
walking briskly to nearby bog
observer of its graceful seasons
relaxing in backyard grasses
among monumental pines
receiving wildlife visitors
on their unannounced rounds
picking berries, corn, fresh flowers
from brimming garden patches
meditating midst domestic things
mix of relics, books, and toucan
embracing woodstove warmth
as cherished, faithful presence
living at this long-savored spot
fixed in modest, hospitable space
hard to imagine...not.
