Amazement at Dawn

All of this exists in Phoebe’s life. Not only when she was a Kindergartner. But now. And Phoebe laughs and squeals and fools around. The serious Phoebe, the sober Phoebe, the oh so mature Phoebe. It started with a poem-decision. A side trip to a park. A note taken on the phone.

I stop counting steps

Setting timers

I found a shell in the park

I looked to grass

Next to my bench grass and soil and the shell

I am not at the sea, not at the river

I am on a hill

In the middle of the country

On a bench, looking down on the city

And the shell is also here

Half in the soil

I took it out

It is full of soil

I leave it here

A shell in the park

I break free

Don’t turn with it

I stay seated

On the bench alone

The birds are with me

I have a concert here

A rendezvous with Mozart’s muses

I have a singer here for me

I become part of the artwork

The setting out

Again something new

Into the void with everything

From nothing to the single entity

Feeling grass, not seeing it

Hearing steps, not counting them

Staying seated, willy-nilly