I Sit a Spell

Cars speed, heedless of my crossing

into the place between the houses

that noise and hurry forgot.

A gravel path with dappled shade,

lines of buzzing apple trees,

fragrant goldenrods dance.

A painted barn,

a swamp with painted turtles.

I stop and go as I like,

no signs or signals here,

no roads or cars interrupt.

But I sit a spell and listen.

Grasshoppers and toads,

the bleat of a sheep or goat,

a raven caws, leaves whisper.

At the edge of the quiet place,

a county highway, almost.

I wait for cars to pass.

Back into my neighborhood,

back into my life,

and worry and work.