Poem of the Moment
A Small Pause Surrounded by the Weather
I’m out early in the morning, walking
with my dog who thinks she is a pup
today because the weather’s good.
She runs through the fields of chicory
and ironweed, bobbing up and down
between blur and purple flowers.
She’s forgotten she is old
and has arthritis and, right now,
I do not want to call her back.
I love how she is ignorant of ailments
and of death. She runs because the air
is clear and sharp today, because
the sun is warm and dappled through
the trees. The vernacular of dog
is only present. Time is just a small
pause surrounded by the weather.
Maybe later she will hurt and I will
build a fire for her to lie beside
on her green rug. For now
she stretches all her cells as far
as they will go through the fields
in the warm morning sun.
~ Maggie Anderson