
Come Sit With Me Awhile
for tomorrow
I must tend
to hearth-fires for warmth,
the spinning loom for clothing,
and bread-flour for hunger —
awhile
amidst emerald moments
while lemon blossoms glow
from topaz to gold
and cloud-like egrets
hasten on their wings
to strings
of violin marsh-winds,
alight
upon the infinite green —
awhile
when time stands still,
seasons compress to moments
no matter the scorching heat,
no matter the numbing cold —
come sit with me awhile.
© D. G. Vachal 2023
*** photograph by Adriansart @ pixabay