On a Minnesota morning run
drops of dew shimmer
off blades of golf course grass
as the sun illuminates
the fairway from
its eastern home.
Absorbed through shoes,
into socks--
leaving ankles cool and
damp.
Pushed into the soil,
first by one foot,
then the other.
As the sun rises higher,
returned to the air
ready to bring
a humid afternoon.
More poems
No comments:
Post a Comment