It is warm in this water,
an oxbow which the river
once fed, yet distinguished
from itself, so what would flow there
now stands here; so it may watch
in the south dry and soundless
revelations of lightning,
and in the east maelstroms
of wind rustling leaves
from branches like a thing alive
And at its base my daughter tending
small flames and a tin of coffee,
where from my tent I feel myself vindicated
and beholden to this hidden grace.
About the Poet
Harold Strauss was once a geologist. These days, he enjoys the long days of retirement with his husband and keeps his mind busy with books and poetry.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.