L'aura del Campo

Lone Elm [250]

Lone Elm

There's something to be said
for napping with a cat on the lap
a dog curled at one's feet
a cup of tea at fingertips
gazing out the window at snowflakes
sifting over a bird feeder,
blujays, and one lone cardinal.

And after stormy gales a blanket of hush,
the calm of sunlight over drifted fields,
the sky a stunning blue.

One can get used to
quiet, drama kept at bay
by hedgerows that mark the boundaries
of fields, of wheat and corn and hay.

Everyday,
routines become a harmony
to the melody of wind rustling dead leaves.

Oh, these memories of Lone Elm
a place where I've never lived
yet long to be.

© Kåre Enga [177.250] (13.oktober.2020)