For She Who Is Torn Between Country and City
there were wonderful surprises
last night
in the city.
The landlord and friend
who understands the needs of lovers of the wilder country,
the landlord who planned to put up a sound barrier
from the roar of the Centennial Expressway
but who understood the outcry
about blocking the view of Deep Fork Creek’s vegetation,
built, instead,
a window in a fence.
And, sweetly, planted sunflowers
on the creek-side,
of the window!
And, sweetly,
hung a string of tiny solar-powered lights.
So, on a remarkably cool evening (especially for July 2!)
I sat looking out the window
at the first sunflower blooms,
at the fluttering leaves of giant Cottonwood.
I tried not to hear the roar,
focusing instead on the lush green.
Amidst the roar
I heard birdsong,
and then a Robin, with what looked like scars
in its bronzey breast feathers,
landed on a cross piece
in the window!
Then Mockingbird did too!
It steadied its place on the window
and we looked at each other for a bit
before it flew away.
Robin jumped up atop the fence
and a Cardinal came alongside,
then flew up into the Cottonwood,
and from there said…something.
Another Robin, this one with beautiful feathers
of tan and black above the orange ones—was it
a Robin!?—flew onto the window,
and another stood in the grass
not far from my Sit Spot.
As the sky’s light dimmed,
the twinkly lights flickered
a time or two,
then glowed


But that wasn’t the end of the surprises.
As the mosquitoes arrived
and I stood up to leave,
I raised my eyes to take in
the smaller, city-view of the sky
and there was moon.
I could see about a quarter of it
beside Earth’s shadow.
There was still enough light from the sun
that even with the naked eye I could see
texture on moon’s surface.
And the camera showed much more—
shadow and crater.


She Who Is Torn Between Country and City