"In a field / I am the absence / of field."

Mark Strand, "Keeping Things Whole"

There's a comfort in standing still.

The quiet view of the pond's greenness

and the seeping of thought into bones reassures.

Is this holiness? Devotion?

The field invites even so, and I breathe,

I exhale. That far hedgerow hides

the seductiveness of fatigue and the soul's sloth

and the illusory fascination of beauty.

As I walk, I divide the air, and then

the air fills the space where I've been.

If I run, I part the sunlight which thickens

the air pillowing my shadow. My heart

does not mark time. I move because

moving wagers on

the pond, the field, the hedgerow.

By Susan Maxwell Campbell

From: United States