Enough

Enough
 
On the cusp
of next
I spill a little water
into the drowsy earth,
drink the rest.
Now we are married,
earth and I,
to each other,
to the What Is,
to the What Will Be.
 
A dog barks,
the cat yells from the house
through the screen door
to set the seal.
It’s not summer anymore.
Not yet fall.
How many boaters
capsized today
crowding, rushing
into the past?
I’ve made the libation,
made my vow.
Cicadas drop the veil.
 
 
S. Robbins, September 6, 2020, from Readings

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s