Wren

Wren

Summer. The wren in the young willow
Swivels with the speed of a missed tag

In a back yard game of chase. What I am
Chasing I’m glad to miss. What I hold

On to is the untouchable joy of losing
A race to my daughter. The air after

Rain. It’s late spring, early June, and
You cannot convince children

out of school that it’s not summer.

One thought on “Wren

  1. rivrvlogr

    Wren, as the observer and the observed, reflects the fleeting permanence of the moment – a memory that can alight at random times as a reminder of that precious moment.

    Reply

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