We set out before dawn,
again, as we have so many
times before, across the lawn,
down by the park, further
through a neighborhood
we have walked for over
a quarter of a century,
our path must be a groove
in some spots by now —
how many times have we
been shaded by our favorite
giant oak tree, or paused
near the grouping of sage
when it blooms and deepens
into a richly beautiful lavender
— I must stop again
to get a picture —
and how many times
have we turned the corner
by the school, increased
our step, knowing that the sun
will break right over the small
grove of needled-pines,
and how many times
has your hand brushed
mine reminding me of a thrill
we still have when we touch,
a tender lover’s caress,
a love that rises and settles
like this waking dawn before us.
—C.L. Fisher, August 2021
Unless otherwise indicated, all writings and images are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.
Poetic Meanderings 