A Resting Place

© 2009 – Collage and poem by Sue Miller

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Tranquility – just what I needed,
relaxation, my get-away,
a new sanctuary for part of a day
near picnic tables, a creek, pines
in the Black Range Mountains.
Peaceful water rippled, trickled
as I listened for little bubble pops
by fish kissing water surfaces.
Red and yellow wildflowers
danced in the breeze
as a prudent bee pollinated,
a stink bug raised its hind end
under my close inspection,
patches of healthy clovers half covered
a pathway around boulders,
a cool gentle wind made goose bumps
on bare arms. The sun tapped my shoulders
in the blue gaps of sky and tall pines.
May the hands of God rise from the water,
release a white dove into the air
to bless this hidden place.

Clouds

Evening's cool breeze breaks
today's heat, penetrates holes
in my shirt to cool sweat
on my stomach, tickles
my neighbor's clanging wind chime.
A breeze that ruffles tree limbs,
sways a little girl's long blonde hair
and white dress as she walks
barefoot carrying her doll
through puddles. A breeze that rolls
heavy clouds toward Old Mesilla.

Clouds fracture, reveal bluish
dusk. Large white spider veins
and lightning bolts flash and split
the southern sky. A gush of rain
pours like a giant hour glass filled
with white dust. Traces of pink paint
the western side. Clouds with charcoal
and sepia undersides meet the setting sun
that highlights light ashy edges.
Swirling clouds form a mastodon
chasing a spinning poodle, collides,
dissolves as one dark mass.