A Walk…At Sixteen Years of Age

The earth was smiling at the clear blue sky,

Morning dew was kissing grass once dry,
My soul and all the world tried hard to sing,
Then a blackbird making light of everything
Was whistling from a bush—sweet melody,
Still I didn’t care if he made fun of me.

For I was watching someone very beautiful appear,

Picking flowers by herself, so near.
I climbed the slope and sat by her feet,
Looking up where hillside and horizon meet—
She said “Behold the yellow slope, the deep ravine,
Mountainside, and there, the grassy green.”

But I saw nothing but her faery face,

Thrilling as her voice filled up the space.
We walked home through the woods and then we found
Timber fallen, slanted to the ground,
A barricade I raised out of her way;
Smiling, she passed under, face alive and gay,
But silent as we left the woods once more;
We sat down close upon the meadowed floor,
Our hearts spoke louder than our words would have,
Talking voicelessly of Something stirring…there.

1978