From my grumpy dream-dither
I swither through this long
gallery, a mist obscuring paintings
of possible paths. Get a job
insidious whisper. At the shore
the lake is green tree reflections
outlined in white. Two geese pair high
sure and swift across choices,
feathering the sky. A fish
leaps, spreads concentric circles.
Sacred symbols emerge like breath.
A snake vees across the bay.
Hummingbirds left three days ago
but I keep the feeder filled for
stragglers. Not all of us are timely.
I picture way stations strung like red
sugar lamps welcoming them as they
race winter. There must be ways
to thrive through my sensibilities, be
grateful as the ground shifts under
unctuous hospitality. I cling to well-
meaning hearts even as I slide into
the cool waters. Hope is a human invention,
a necessary ingredient to sweeten
the indigestible. From the tall grasses,
four ducks emerge preening. As I sit
by the swaying feeder, a tiny hummingbird
alights, my miracle offering accepted
even as I urge this being, fly, there is
no place for you in the coming cold.