On the Spot, Watching



A tree can’t thrash its branches;
it waits for the wind to move them.
I can manufacture neither poems nor spiritual power,
but my task is to be on the spot, watching,
ready when the breeze picks up.

~Luci Shaw from Breath for the Bones


I awake as a gust unlatches our front door ajar,
blinds clattering over screened windows
yawning open for months;
raindrops blowing everywhere,
sucked up with a thirst
unknown by this soil before.

I thirst too~
sweat-dried from a too-long summer,
eager to be tasked with watching
this amazing change
to be moved as it passes by,
bowed and bent by its power.




3 thoughts on “On the Spot, Watching

  1. Emily, I greatly identify with your words as I can hear the wind howling and see the ocean whitecaps from our Port Townsend room. It’s invigorating after our hot summer as you’ve so beautifully written.


  2. Beautiful. Such an amazing storm. Saw two branches tumble down today. Decided the garage was a good place for the car. Took a nap and made a peach pie. Reading is next. Thank you for the words and pictures.


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