By Erin Fitz-Gerald
The nudge of the dog’s nose
lifts my eyes from the page.
It is time for the journey home.
West to the river
the whispered lapping loosens the mind’s hold.
A soft whiff draws me further within.
Along the north path
crow, duck, gull and crane serve as nobles
in the bald eagle’s court.
We join others and are still.
With a slight bow we move on.
To the east mountains blush.
Sky softens in tenderness… or is it encouragement?
Maybe, it’s both/and.
To the south dust nestles my step
as I enter the congregation of embracing cottonwoods
backlit in gold.
I settle in for the night
having made my way home.