I search for myself
not
among the fallen leaves
black
bruised on rain-silted path

But
in stillness of afternoon sun
yellowing
the field, a river serene
sloped
to all echoes of passing birds

Here,
death is the smell of wood
here
earth is red nest, spaded deep with
fossils

Grant me my day
bending
to sip water from the sky
rocks
grass, sleeping trees, depths of
myself



Title inspired by Salvatore Quasimodo (in part):

Grant Me My Day

(Dammi il mio giorno)

Grant me my day;
so I might yet search myself

for some dormant face of the years

that a hollow of water

returns in its transparency

and weep for love of myself.



Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sunday's Mini-challenge:    Salvatore Quasimodo and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~