MORNING AT THE ACREAGE poem

Morning at the Acreage

The wind filters through
willows
swaying as lithe stalks of
celery
and poplar leaves shake
themselves
to the tune of outdoor living

while partridge slumber
forward
with plodding tracks and
persevering beaks poking into
the wind of a new day.

I am a voyeur to
their ramblings
my thoughts as footprints
a memory of images
and impressions

wife by my side and love
in the air. We are
partners in the dance.

© Richard L. Provencher 2009