morning
on my deck facing west
I say to myself,
“I live next to a river of ferns.”
in direct sunlight
the ferns are almost translucent
bright green waving
beds of ferns
punctuated by small yellow flowers
bright in the sun
orange farther back
in the shade
above me and also to the west
a protector hemlock
with friendly lilacs to my north
on a dull backdrop of human sounds
the sounds close by
are birds
and an occasional fly
or bee
evening
I thought perhaps
I had imagined it
the gold and green
but then
as the light faded
there it was
the bower of ferns
muted green and gold
a luscious blend
a 10 minute frame
within a frame
outlined by presence