Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Wild Meadow

It is twilight in the meadow. 
First quarter moon,
crickets singing,
fluttering bats patrol the sky
in silence up where the Tulip Poplars bloom. 
The steady, buzzing hum
of my neighbor's pool filter
soils the quietness. 
I'd forgotten how loud it is
— though not nearly as loud as the 
machine that weekly keeps
this space a meadow instead of forest. 
We keep the conveniences we like, and
not all wild places are untrammeled.

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