Like This

A day that reminds you of what you dreamed,

that life would be like this:

leaves on a path under bicycle wheels. 

I remember being young,

when the wooly bear would tell you

precisely how long the winter would be. 

You memorized the clouds

like a song you hoped 

would rise in your mind at dawn,

for the part of you that’s given to sound:

all you thought before everything else, 

the sense of stillness when you stared at the sky,

that life would be like this,

if you could last just long enough. 

                                                Cheryl Emerson

                                                11/2/2013

 

Connemara