|
|
Grass
After we pulled up anchor in River Cove
that morning and sailed down the channel
stopping when we saw a bald eagle
gliding along the tree line
big messy nest in the dead top
of a living pine, three young eagles
no white showing yet on their heads
and the father perched now in a nearby tree
vigilant
after we felt thunderheads
looming behind us and turned in again
at Little Harbor to batten down and after
the storm passed us by, hazy sun
appeared and we took the rubber boat
in to explore the stony shore, pick
driftwood and beach flowers and sit
on a warm flat rock in the water
then we found the grassy place
up the bank under evergreens --
yarrow and loosestrife and fireweed
desire only a fingertip away -- shed
everything -- small pine cones in the tall grass
tart green needles overhead, misty sun
bathing us
afterwards the pattern
of the grass imprinted on my calves
my thighs, lasted all the afternoon
Anne Fowler (Click for bio.)