THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

CROSSING

April 2, 2011

Copyright 2011 Gordon Kuhn

T’was a soft and loving summer’s night,

That stood close and kissed a winter’s dawn.

The warmth of long days had slowly cooled,

And fall’s chill had painted, pooled

A gift of basketless leaves and flowers strewn,

To wither and then to dust to turn,

Beneath a bright and glowing autumn moon,

As lengthening shadows upon the field began to loom.

And, creatures large and small,

Furred and feathered, short and tall,

Began to venture forth, to creep into the room,

While aged the world before me ran,

Yet t’was young and still spry as the new born fawn

That I spied one early sleepy morn

As it strutted and danced across my lawn.

In love with life it jumped and pranced,

While I crept as close as I could have chanced.

Then, while embers from a fire close by,

Cracked and popped, and began to lose their heat and die,

I stood quiet as the soft sand colored creature passed,

While in silence each found the other’s eye;

And with gentleness we both touched the other’s face

And across its muzzle my fingers traced,

While its warm short breaths my throat and face embraced.