Play. Time.

when the calendar cracks open

it is good 
to hear the fullness of water 
lap and slap generously,  
against my eager paddle
droplets peaceful down-tinkling 
after each smooth stroke

against the unanimously blue sky, 
it is good 
to see the outline of the day moon
a white lace circular half-finished, 
waxing, striking
as the spring sun
on my skin

my flesh harbors contrast, knows cold,
the breeze whispers of winter's recent passing

under dragonfly, moth, geese pair, flying
i try lying in mosaic grass
land: sometimes marsh
today: soft but dry

it is good 
to remember why
i am here

this world deserves
an attentive audience, 
deserves more 
than an attempt to escape 
my anxieties and exhaustions

it can take me hours
to be where i am  

when my mind
finally finds its seat,
it is a sweet relief 
to behold the show
that goes on without me 

wild orchids purple under the budding oak
driftwood sculptures bob in ornament, the lake 
both backdrop and main character
dynamic and far reaching 

into my nervous system: a flowing 
teal sparkle, a way away 

this play
is very good 

-JL
Friday, April 19th, 2024
A Lake, Oregon
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