Knowings

There are knowings
you deny me:
The wisdom of
a gentle cow,
the purple cowslip,
a graceful dove.
The certainty
of a storm,
the busy sycamore,
its sap,
its falling bark.

What I do
is plant tomatoes,
will them
to redden, believing
they are mine.
Here, in this field
where willows
wave against
a silent sky,
I am all my
yearnings,
foolish
in ways which
they are not.

Copyright © 1997 by Judith R. Robinson

August Twilight

In air
so warm
and drifting
at dusk
so breathless
still

By silent
untouched pools
small life forms
cling to
the tranquil
earth
with me.

Someone
settles in
above us,
calling:

three notes --
two short, one long
and drawn
in sorrow;

So sweet
a sound,

So sweet, so brief!

We idled warm
together
in the purple
quiet.
Our hearts
were full

Feasted
on summer;
now we sigh
and yearn
for the song.

Copyright © 1997 by Judith R. Robinson