Prompt Images
The early spring woods
smell of clean Earth,
a hint of bitter ice
trailing on the wind. My dog
and I soak up the nascent
sunshine, spongy trails
beneath our feet yielding to
mud, fresh green buds poking
through last season’s crispy leaves.
A rustling from the forest floor
perks her ears, and suddenly she
launches, tail starched and stiffly
saluting her prey. I watch, enrapt,
as joy vaults her into what she is
bred to do. She lands, riveted,
still and silent. Then, growling,
she springs at each rustle,
circles and snaps. Mesmerized,
I envy her oneness with
her task, the Earth, her prey:
she flows naturally into
everything else.
The battle fading, I creep
closer, observing the
outcome. A garter snake lies
twisted, belly to the sun,
a bead of blood
above its eye.
The beauty of Joy is its
fleetingness: brushing your
cheek like a succulent kiss,
it leaves as suddenly
as It appeared.
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