Carolyn Gregory: Gathering Strength

When day begins with fog outlining

the shapes to come,

another good poet dead

and the prospect of a bad president,

in the rain I take nothing but my house keys

to walk over gravel up hill

past machines gathering the broken branches

of another year.

These are hard hills to climb

so I take them slowly as my breath

gathers strength from the leaves

spinning among sumac posts

and the corpses of cattails

gathered in the swamp.

Unsure of things,

the higher power shows me the path this day

through deep blue Norway spruce,

golden acres of forest

and my path again stays sure.

Copyright 2017 Carolyn Gregory

.