The oaks we love (photo: Wiki Media Commons)
“Lucky Me 8/14/15”
On this fine April day
I took a walk down Palmer Ave
never intending to go
all the way from Willow to St Charles
But I couldn’t help myself.
First it was the entanglement
of the oak arbor that snared me.
The abrupt twists and turns of
every branch from trunk to
tip transformed each tree
into an inscrutable mystery.
The rough bark of each limb was made
soft by a sleeve of resurrection fern
brought back to life by the recent rain.
When the sun broke through the cloud cover
the oak leaves captured the light and
dissolved it into a thousand shades of green…
As shadows danced along the
surface of the tarmac, roadside
puddles became reflecting pools.
Then the sounds of the morning took over…
bird song, whoosh of cars, and the whine of
tree cutters were all capped by the whistle
of a distant freight.
Even the plastic bottles carelessly left
in the gutter took on the innocence of
cosmic debris.
By the time I reached St Charles,
I was a goner.
Nothing seemed out of place…
Everything seemed to be
just as it was supposed to be.
And, lucky me…
I was only halfway home.