There, a green meadow, just beyond the wooded shade
open grass, long blades, belly barren from winter
one slow pausing step, watching, listening
careful not to trust clear day too much
sunlight over my nose moist, lifting eyes of beaded brown
stare upon spring patches, watering mouth, luring, stepping, step
bowing my head, I eat
Crackling coos, scuffles scampers my ears pull back, my legs are ready
listening I wait, eyeing the wooded fortress, I could dash
moments pass, instinct bids me calm, I walk on.
to a stream cool refreshing flat stones a bridge to cross
hooves a tap tap tap lapping again from the ripple
the jumping nothings that buzz and bite, flowering bush and vine, I see
Tucking my nose in petalled pillows
bird, raccoon, squirrel, rabbit parading in smells and play
a sudden startling break of twigs, I am standing
staring, listening, ears pull back, legs ready
heart beating and beating so hard- braving the long watch
winds quiet, safety whispers, curling down on ground’s warm sturdy mass
seedlings sprouting from frozen dirt, my eyes shut and reopen
tall grass blades sweep across my fur, back and forth, lulling caresses
limbs go limp on meadows lap, I sleep
Days on days of leaping, bathing sun, loitering over clouds shadow
over the fallen barks of moss, I do not stop and stare or tilt my ears back
my legs are not ready, I do not dwell any longer in the forest
new shoots, spring patches, long blades bush, stream and flower
how I am staying in the meadow
Until now, I had not known, not learned of the meadow
I had not lived inside man, now I know, now I’ve learned
And I am in love, with my Green Meadow.
Kate Lunsford 