Early September
Sitting in my gazebo under a cloudy sky,
thunder grumbles down
the pink Huachuca Mountain slopes
toward the San Pedro River.
Wind, you are as restless as the grassland.
I miss what messages you could bring,
but I have my coffee and poems by Mary Oliver.
Waiting will not be a problem.
Life isn’t short. It’s long.
Make it short by wasting time.
Obstacles are not deterrents.
The dust of sorrow will always settle.
From: Shorts: Short Poems On How We Ramble
Unpub. MS p. 57
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