usually by now, late in the summer,
school starts to horn in to my thoughts and lists,
visions of classes and kids will dance in my head,
and I find myself not fully present in present and past,
and the future plans my present, more and more fully,
I found the first blooming cardinal flower today,
the bittersweet tolling of a bell to tell me it’s time to go,
I felt myself lost in the perfection of its beauty,
more than with it as the usual slap
to wake me up from the dream of summer,
I will be fully present for my kids and colleagues soon,
for now the mountains call and I still sit at their feet and listen.
by Henry H. Walker,
August 9, ’11
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