ODE TO BE poem

Ode To Be

A meandering line of
White Birch is more than
slivers of joy
marching as a path
surrounding my view, a
collection of Pine and Poplar
joining the fray, a lifetime journey
among this side of forest
visited often through love of
land, deer and chick-a-dees,
meadow larks and hiking

a coyote or two absorbing the
view. And I am no stranger
among them. They tolerate me.
I am a stir fry along with a
variety of vegetables, a menu
far removed from the tameness
of this ranch, llamas, sheep
and dexter cows seeking my
gaze. Eeyore too who
rushes at me from his pen
braying set aside,
accepting friendship from my
warm hand on his face.

© 2007-2009 Richard L. Provencher
All Rights Reserved