This Soft Day
Rain dripping from the roof
Makes slow sweet music
On my air conditioner.
Sound. Silence. Sound.
Songbirds announce the day.
A lone grackle perches on a maple limb
Across the river. Beyond it
The mountain rises.
Shapes of its trees are softened
By a blue-gray mist.
Even evergreens are barely visible.
The squirrel on my porch railing
Looks toward the river.
He stands stone still.
How meditative he looks,
I was going to say.
But then he turned toward me.
Our eyes locked.
And I felt privileged to share
Those silent moments of acknowledgement–
Two creatures of the earth considering each other.
Then he jumped to the floor and ran away.
Iım left with the cawing of a crow
And circle after circle
Ever-widening on the river
As soft rain begins again.
Copyright © 2003 Margaret Robison
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