Photo by Randi Hausken
I hold my head and wonder,
An oasis of beauty opens in front of me,
Marshland, wetland
How little there is left.
Tall deep pink flowers, foxgloves,
Where is the fox? Long gone,
Stretch out through the now dryish land,
A color that will draw a happy gaze.
At the far end of the little still-a-swamp space
The trees begin, twisted and bending
This way and that
Reaching for a used to be clear sky.
Calmness, grace, and peace
Cloak the marshy grass
And a blue heron squawks
her Guttural cry as she makes her way by.
And just a little bit away
I watch the man find a board
And an exposed drift log
On this beach of dreams.
He places a young girl
On one end of that balanced board
And a little boy joins in
At the other end.
Seesaw Seesaw. Up and down
Goes my life as I try to find my balance
ln this wounded world
Where each day grows warmer.
The man laughs as he pushes the girl down
And the little boy rises higher
And then he pulls her up
And the boy sinks to the sand.
Seesaw. Seesaw. The World whirls madly,
Searching for the balance it had before,
We look at each other and smile
The football game is about to begin.
I wait for the rain
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