For the First Time

L.J. Lenehan

On my path, it rains,
my dry skin moisturized.

For the first time, I stop,
observing the bend up the way,

inhaling the fragrant orchard bloom
I try to understand, how I never noticed

the bloom of thistles, water lilies,
dog rose, blue bells, dragonflies.

My steps are overwhelmed
by the need not to move, conflicted

by what lies up ahead, predators in between
lie each side in wait, to take:

my limbs, my children, my life.
I shake with the weight of my little chest

that holds within it a golden soul,
ready to shine.

-L.J. Lenehan-


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