Fields of Clover

The field breathes,
A verdant sea of ripened life
Curled in abandon about itself,
Overcome with the song of rain.
A feast
Of clover, fungi, moss and
The many heartbeats of
Small creatures that call
This place their home.

The grass has grown to fill the trenches,
The long, raked furrows
Of a season gone.
Memory-wounds that now
Pool with rain to feed
The land.

All about, the comfort of trees
Blooming at the careful tender of time.
A shelter growing
And fine-spun webs to bridge the divide-
Trembling, fragile, and weighted
By the memory of mists that
Bead and fall to catch at the dip
To bend soft strands
Until they break.

With time, the strands will thicken,
With time, the furrows will fade,
With time the canopy will close with
Fresh new life.
And cultivated on the gift of time,
The field may welcome
The soft tread of a visitor
In its midst.

Danielle K. Day

Day 5 of NaPoWriMo- a sweet poem inspired in part by a walk in the park with my dogs. It was raining all day today, so we got a bit saturated. But, we also saw dozens of mushroom clusters all over the place. We took some photos as well, because I love mushrooms! 🙂 ❤ Danni


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