Slow Enough

"From Camille Pissarro".

“From Camille Pissarro”.

I have slowed enough
to watch the quail
crawl from the bushes
in my Oregon childhood.

Reclining rockers lift the
feet of all my ancestors.
I can remember,
as in a game of darts,
how a tiny center wins
all the big points.

A lawn along the creek
near the old grandma house,
umbrella and home-made
sarsaparilla on the arm of the
lean-back Adirondack.

I have slowed enough
and now have much to see.

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