November 2 - November 6 Week 39/72
mesmerized by the tiniest
dew drops hanging onto
individual clover leaf hairs
I pause and think about water
glistening orbs produced by forces unseen
hydrogen, hydrogen, oxygen
when is it the happiest?
rising to make ripples that cascade
from the back of a beaver heading home?
flowing in streams of air high above
chasing the sun across continents and oceans?
falling gently, not bending a petal or
when mustering forces moving all in its way?
transforming as it falls into frozen pellets or
flash-freezing autumn leaves suspended in place?
reaching for the rain gauge I startle
a downy woodpecker that has spent a cool night
tucked into the small wooden birdhouse nearby
I breathe in sharply, caught off guard then
release a joyful exhale that mixes with air
silently stirred by checkered wings
heading off to who knows where