Monday, December 3, 2018


            Diane and the Smokies

Afloat in a pond of July sunshine and mesmerized
by the waterfall’s pounding cascade onto granite slabs
below, there came a day when suddenly she stood up
in the stream of all of it, locked her freckled eyes
onto spruce treetops a mile up the mountain and,
like an ecstatic animal, burst into such laughter, such
utter freedom gifted by purity of water and rock
and wind, that three hawks circling high overhead
ceased their incessant hunt for this moment, becoming
points of stillness, love’s witnesses in the great sky
of her hard-won joy.

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