It didn’t take long
for things to slide.
Faced with losses
that are measurable,
we refuse to see
gains that are not.
Locked into our rut
of electronic living,
the refuge offered by
bird calls and
the contrast of
warm sun and
cold air is overlooked.
I close my eyes to daydream
my summer garden,
still frozen in the dark
and saturated soil.
This is time well spent,
immeasurable, fleeting
and essential.
Categories: Poetry