DAYBREAK

Evaporation

Sleeping in this cottage which smells like childhood vacations
I dreamt of three juvenile owls,
almost old enough to fledge,
perched on the branches of a tree
Drinking my morning coffee

I see a fox loping across the meadow towards the pond,
a tail as big as its body, it pauses, turns towards me,
vulnerable in its skinniness,
locks eyes with me, turns and trots away

Intent in its purpose,
confident in its direction
Intent in its purpose,
confident in its direction

Old maps show homesteads, roads, creeks and rivers,
stone walls mark the edges of fields
colonists depositing the stones they farmed
the granite kiss, pinched fingers

The weight our forebears moved,
the things they grew:
blocks of ice, champagne apple cider
the ideals of the American revolution
farmers abandoned plows to fire shots
in pursuit of life, liberty, happiness

Intent in their purpose,
confident in their direction
Intent in their purpose,
confident in their direction

From this kitchen, I’ll walk this land
I will change my sense of time
Can I become this place?
When I swim in this pond,
can I become this water?
I want to be present in this place
I want to evaporate
and be a molecule of water
in the air of this place

Intent in my purpose,
confident in my direction
Intent in my purpose,
confident in my direction