Late afternoon and the soaking foliage
heavy, damp, lively and restless;
The tiny plot with a million oak leaves,
layer upon layer, full of vigor and decay.
The burgeoning tropicals, the insistent weeds,
the anxious parents, the restive children,
the overwrought neighborhood street.
Ambitious fire of noonday sun strengthening
the obstinate, unpredictable sky.
In the midst of all, Grace,
floating like the dandelion seed head,
soaring with the wind over the flattened roof tops;
Flushing out despair with every breath.
Grace with her unconscionable goodwill,
Her determined presence
Her steady tutelage
whispering, whispering
out of the chasm of chaos
out of the stifling heat.
*Homage to Willa Cather’s “Prairie Spring”.
