cathy_edgett) wrote, cathy_edgett I waken with a stiff neck
as if I have been straining
against some power all night
reining in a wild horse
or righting a small craft
in a storm.
The deluge has stopped for now.
The skies, still gray,
are scrubbed.
The clouds flap like the torn sheets
of defeated sailboats
and even the mountain has lost herself.
On a day like this
I note how small is
the calm center
on which I depend.
How steady.
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