Lost In Space

Green heron preens with blue-gray
bill, orange foot scratching white

chest overlooking the freshly stocked
lake-larder. Killdeer claims the black

tarmacadam, feigning injury.
Cardinal’s red flash fleeting past.

Clouds gather unobtrusively
for the afternoon surprise

with thunderous flair. My cup
is dry, my plate empty. And still

I hesitate in this fluttering.
Instantly seven swallows swoop,

the green heron croaks her warning.
I turn my head for the wren’s spray

of notes, liquid, mellifluous.
When I look back, they’ve all vanished,

end of Act One, the lessons I need
played out before me. A how-to

defend boundaries, strong nos
in living color as I sit with coffee

and pen. My filters and expectations
pushing extraneous ink to

protect me from the dizzying
freefall of now until there are

no words and
I’m in it.

Inspired by: Hesitate, Flair, Extraneous and Spray.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

3 thoughts on “Lost In Space”

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