Wordless

is a word, yes….yet, none of these moments, none of these phenomena exist

because of the scaffolds of human language:

Mushrooms in the park nestled on wet lawn

The rain splattered sidewalk

The thick-legged girl booting a soccer ball beyond the goal

The bird pirouetting along the grass, worm-searching

The bench where we sat and where you’re not now

The clatter of window shades in wind

The tingle of my feet after today’s run

The presence of your absence now

The memory of hugging Therese in her kitchen in silence

The bougainvillea blossom on the running path, red with a white dot

The shine and shimmer of my grandson’s grin

The bird alone on a bare limb overlooking the lake

The thought of an underlying evolving energy prior to all thought

The downtown Portland library in the afternoon

The emptiness in my gut

The attempt at welcoming this emptiness

The poet whose fire to express herself in beautiful evocative words blazes on

My desire to live for a while, like the blossom on the path, wordlessly…….