poem

The sun was out, it was warm,
and the wind was alive-
pushing long stalks of corn
eastward toward the river.
I remember the smell,
and the sight of the dust following
my footsteps; having created a small
amount of life in my wake.
I smiled as I reached the riverbank.
I smiled as I sat on a large rock,
and I smiled as I opened my thoughts.

-M. Taggart

poem- a little longer

A family member shared delicate news.
I’m looking out my window,
watching the rain.
I hope the test is negative.
I pray the test is negative.
He’s a good man.
A strong thinker
with great faith.
I’ve always watched the rain.
I think I’ll sit here a little longer.

-M. Taggart

 

 

Odd Walking Thoughts

Our own thoughts came around again. Funny how that happens. A floor holding an image of a mirror came back. Someone wanted something. Watch as the floor says nothing, having seen twice what was once, and then watch as the voice asks for more.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

Lay us near the side of our brook. We’ll listen and observe a thing burn inside, like we did. Turn again in the mud, smell the ferns, wash the ‘self’, and watch as soul sinks in. Man in a white coat wants to ask how, doesn’t matter much. He’ll be here, or not, again. Seems to us a brook is a fine place to be. It’s always about something. So we see, and we do what there is to do about the seeing until, finality.

-M. Taggart