Slowly we walked, the dogs and I,
past the pond aswirl with morning mist,
past the wide expanse of lawn
alight with morning dew.
I paused to pick up a paper
tossed upon the ground –
a student’s discarded test
abundantly marked with red.
If only it were that easy, I thought,
to leave our mistakes behind,
but several of mine snuck in …
marking the rest of my walk with red,
but one of a gentler kind.
JDG
,
Small, green grasshopper,
why did you come inside yesterday?
I picked you up and put you out
only to have you greet me
from the door frame again today.
Clearly you have something
important to convey.
What that is, I cannot say.
What I can say is this:
“Namaste, small, green grasshopper, namaste.”
JDG
Undecided morning sky
signals with its tinge of pink:
maybe rain, maybe not.
Periodically I check the sky
hoping it will clarify.
JDG
What if
we spent
as much time
in quiet
contemplation
as we
spend on
our devices?
JDG
She gently leads us
through the minefield of her mind,
helps us understand.
JDG
How many leaves can one dog
sniff on this slowest
of slow-moving walks?
On how many trees
can he leave his mark before
he’s left enough?
The answer, my friend,
is blowing in the wind
which is moving faster than us.
JDG
After so many years of teenage dismissal,
imagine my surprise
when I got her call seeking my advice.
Imagine her surprise
when, before launching in,
I asked for her opinion.
Two women, two generations apart,
delightfully surprised
by each other.
JDG
