First there is wonder:
a river-wrack dance on incoming tide,
two otters twining out to sea,
moss under crushing footsteps,
a radiant sedge,
a raven overhead.
Then there is wondering:
why one rowan toppled in the storm,
upending boulders to survive
all tangled, all-angled complexity,
while the smaller simply
shed another limb.
For a moment, there is insight:
mosses and lichens, liverworts and ferns
will overgrow the wounded wood,
scarred trunks will heal,
the lightened crown will stand;
there is elegance or there is sprawl.
On the way back
it is the same grey day
but everything is different;
even the river
flows the other way.
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