Here on the path by Kate Foley

Here on the path

surrounded by that giant who swipes the clouds,
huffs the wind that lifts the sea
over its edges,
we walk.
Intemperate, uncouth
as a big dog, he aims to please,
thinks unremitting and unrelieved
green and greed of grain is all the green we want to see.
Massive tractors track
their giant-trainer-treads

here on the path

where tiny black elegant pearls of rabbit pooh
scatter the battered soil,
hawthorn petals struggle with barbed wire,
poppy seed heads promise red,
a wren flashes its tail, its transparent song,
a blackbird hangs its golden rings
in each of our ears
and the shadows of decayed leaves
are printed on the memory of earth

here on the path

where ‘little’ pits its needle wit
to outlast ‘large’.

by Kate Foley

Guest Editor’s Note: This poem is a luscious mind-dance, waking the reader to delightful sounds and images, large and tiny.

Please welcome Guest Editor Laura Foley from March 27-March 31, 2017.

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